


Tongue Tied

by nikkasa (NikkiAbs)



Category: My Candy Love
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Love, Male-Female Friendship, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2424596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiAbs/pseuds/nikkasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does it mean when a boy has your cheeks blushing, heart racing, palms sweating, head spinning, and you think you might be going crazy but everything is just so right at the same time? Well that means you're in love, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 

When I broke it to my friends that I was moving, I really expected more. Really. It was all over the movies; the best friends sobbing and hugging and buying whoever was leaving big gifts. Why didn’t I get that? Where was the poster, signed by everyone that was going to miss me? The balloons? Flowers? Anything? From my group that consisted of five other girls, only two really cared.

 

I thought of the events of the summer that led to me moving away along with my twin sister Bridgette.

_“H-How long?” my mom’s voice shook._

_“Ever since…” it was my dad. Bridgette and I both had our ears pressed against the door of my room, listening carefully._

_“Say it.” My mom spat. “Just say when.”_

_“Two years ago.” Dad sighed. “I swear, I was going to break it off with her, but things got out of hand and—”_

_“Things got ‘out of hand’? You think things ‘got out hand’ because two years ago, you lost your job? You could’ve fixed that Greg! You could’ve done something about it!”_

_“I know Lana, I know. I’m so sorry, I just—”_

_“Leave me alone. Please. Just go.”_

_“Lana, please let me talk this out with you.”_

_“What the_ hell _is there to talk about, Greg? For God’s sake, get out of my house.”_

_“Let me say goodbye to the girls. Please. Before I go.”_

_There was the shuffling of footsteps, Dad’s heavy shoes against the floor. And they were getting louder and louder._

_“Oh shit!” Bridgette yelped, shoving me down and using my back as support to jump back into bed._

_“Fuck!” I hissed, falling to the floor._

_The door swung open, and dad was there. Only when I saw his face, did I start to cry. And that was the last time I had seen my dad ever again._

Beck and Ann stayed with me till morning. We told stories of our memories as kids, growing up by the beach and taking our bikes out to buy the candied apples downtown, or rollerblading by that skate shop where all the cute older boys hung out. When it was time for me to leave, they held me tight and promised to call as much as they could. School would be starting soon. We were supposed to finish high school together, get our diplomas together, and more importantly go to _prom_ together. All this dad-having-another-girl and mom-with-a-midlife-crisis was changing all of that.

 

I was pissed. But Bridgette was _really_ pissed. Don’t get me wrong, I hated that we had to move out to a little town in the middle of nowhere called Wesgrove. Lucky for me, I didn’t have a boyfriend I was head over heels with. If I did, I would’ve felt like I was moving to hell instead, but no, I was beyond that. I was more pissed off at my mother more than ever. On that night that Dad said goodbye to us, she came in and explained the story. I didn’t care. Dad had an affair. I knew it. They’re marriage was falling apart anyway. The thing that really pissed me off was when Mom told us that we were going to be living alone. _Alone._ Sure, it sounded like any seventeen year-olds dream. Living all alone with an apartment to yourself and your sister? HELL. YES.

 

Yeah, uh, no.

 

What were we? Pets that you could just dump at a shelter? Bridgette was just as mad as I was. Mom told us how she was going to be depositing money in our bank accounts and gave us a long lecture on how to manage money. Bills would be mailed straight to her. Credit cards were for emergency only. Lights do not mix with darks in the laundry. Auntie will be checking in, she lives only a couple of minutes out of town. Skye, please don’t forget to turn off the lights at night? Bridge, don’t let your sister abuse the wi-fi? All of this, we faced in one summer. I felt like killing myself.

 

The drive to Wesgrove was uneventful, and we were being driven by a woman I barely knew anymore. Instead of the quaint, conservative mom I grew up to know, in the driver’s seat was a middle-aged, slimmed down and caked with make-up woman ready to live the life she “always wanted to before she married”. Hugs and kisses were exchanged but no tears were shed. Promises meant to be broken (Calling every night? Psh, yeah right;) were still vowed in. Why me? My life sucked back here in California, but now, with no friends, no one at all but an Aunt and a twin sister that didn’t even look like me to hang on to, I was positive that I was walking straight into a mess.


	2. One: Anywhere But Here

The new apartment was…nice.  
That was all I could say about it. The floor was clean, the paint wasn't cracked, the furniture was all in its place. Did that reach my standards to like the new place? Not even close.  
It was too big for my sister and I to share. There was way too much space to clean too, and too many responsibilities to keep in mind. Sweeping, cooking, washing, bills, water conservation. All this sudden responsibility was making my head spin. There was just something off. I tried looking at it better, or make it more welcoming, opening the curtains or moving some furniture, but somehow, I just couldn't find the heart to find a home in the apartment. The plain off-white walls made the place cold, the windows looked sad with not much of a view except small stores and buildings. Then again, I didn't see a home either, back in California. This made me sad; to not want to be where you came from, but not wanting to go anywhere either. It made me want to disappear completely and not just want to be anywhere but here, but not want to be anywhere at all. I decided to go upstairs and hole up in my room when my thoughts depressed me too much. I couldn't find the strength to cry either, so instead, I buried my head under the blankets, trapped with just my mind until my eyelids started to fall.  
"You are my sunshine! My only sunshine!"  
"You make me happy when skies are gray!"  
I groaned, opening one eye and slamming my palm on my alarm clock. The singing still didn't stop so I pressed it again.  
"You never know, dear, how much I love you!"  
"Please don't take my sunshine ahhhwaaaay!"  
Only after did I realize that it was my sister's horrible singing voice ringing through the halls. I snarled and covered myself with the blanket once more. Monday mornings were never my thing.  
Correction: mornings were just not my thing.  
"Wakey-wakey eggs and bakey!" Bridgette squealed, bursting into my room clad in a red polka-dotted apron, two cooking gloves and a pan of frying bacon in one hand. "Get up Skye! First day of school!"  
"No." I mumbled, shutting my eyes tight and hoping to be brought back into heaven, also known as sleep.  
"God, Skye, you're always such a moodkiller."  
Thinking Bridgette would go on and pester me even more; I stuck my head under my pillow. I was wrong. When I looked out from my cover, my sister was gone and had left the door open too.  
"Haven't you people ever heard of closing the god damn door?" I yelled, a slight tune to my voice.  
"You watch your tongue, young lady!" Bridgette yelled back from downstairs.  
"Oh fuck you!" I shouted then burst into a fit of laughter.  
Okay, so the cursing at home part was definitely a quirk of this new arrangement. I sat there in bed for an even longer time. Do you know that moment when you want to go back to sleep so bad, so you try your hardest, but your body already knows it's awake and can't go back? Exactly. I sighed in defeat, and rolled out from under the covers.  
I love school! Yay! Yay. Ugh.  
Shoot me now. God, I am ready.  
Over the summer, I promised myself I'd make a good impression on people at school on the first day, but thinking about it now, I didn't really care. I pulled out an old, dark green knit sweater and Christmas patterned tights and put them on. Christmas, the day before my birthday. All I wanted was to be back there, lazing around in my room with my best friend, Mason, waiting up until midnight so he could greet me. He gave me the tights. My ankle boots were already sitting at the edge of my bed last night so I decided to wear them for the day. Before leaving my room, I checked myself in the mirror.  
I look like a hag, I decided, searching for my make up bag then putting on some eyeliner to conceal the puffiness of my eyes from crying earlier yesterday. I wet the palm of my hand and tried smoothing down the creases in my short, straight black hair. Realizing that I was wasting too much time, I gave up on trying to look good.  
When I stepped into the kitchen, I noticed Bridgette was doing the dishes and cleaning up after herself.  
"There's bacon on the table." She said, not even bothering to look at me.  
"No, there isn't."  
"Oh." I heard the frown in Bridgette's voice. She switched off the sink and wiped her hands before turning around and facing me. "I guess I ate it."  
I rolled my eyes.  
"Thanks Bridge. Really, thanks."  
"No problemo!" she piped up. If she weren't my sister, her giddyness would've earned her a black eye from me. "Fine. I'm sorry. Auntie called this morning, by the way."  
"Yeah?" I said, resorting to chugging down water until I felt full enough to last a day at school. "What did she say?"  
"Oh you know, Auntie stuff." Bridgette replied. "She also said something about a burger place near school. We can stop there for your breakfast!" She sang the last line. I set down the pitcher of water I had just finished.  
"Fine." I said. "You're driving."  
Wesgrove wasn't all that big, I realized after just minutes of aimless Bridgette driving. There were barely any people in it. It was the epitome of a peaceful, slow, small town. I felt like I was in the book To Kill A Mockingbird, 21st century version, minus the racism and rednecks, I hope.  
"Burger King…dom?" I read the cheap-looking sign from the car window with doubt.  
"Is this place for real?" Bridgette tried suppressing a laugh. We both peered out the car window at the little shack.  
"No, no. It's just standing right in front of us." I said sarcastically. Bridgette rolled her eyes, but she knew better than to reply. I sighed, grabbing my wallet and getting out the car.  
"This place looks sketchy." She said as we approached the stand. And Bridgette was right. In the middle of a parking lot, there was a dingy burger stand that wasn't even Burger King. It was Kingdom. A fat greasy man stood in the middle of the booth flipping patties while he handed a thirty-something guy his change, looking like he was used to being in a cramped space. I scanned the area. There were three tables, two already occupied by an athletic couple and the other by an old man that wasn't even eating a burger, instead playing chess with himself. No one seemed to be fully awake yet, including me, seeing that it was roughly around seven in the morning. I got in line, right behind some redhead with a leather jacket.  
We got a bad ass over here. I thought sarcastically.  
Redhead, (and I don't mean ginger. I mean red, like fire truck or Taylor Swift Red kind of hair. Bad comparison, but it was the first thing that came to mind) took his burger and change, giving me a sideways glance. I caught his eye, but turned away when his gaze turned out to be an icy one. He didn't seem to be in a very good mood.  
"What's up with that one?" I said, making conversation with the vendor.  
"Ah, that kid? Never wakes up on the right side of the bed, if you ask me. Probably doesn't even sleep."  
I laughed lightly and ordered a plain cheeseburger and a bottle of water. When I was done gathering my food, I had hoped Bridgette had the common sense to at least save us a seat, I saw that Red was sitting where I had meant to.  
"Oopsies." Bridgette said when she saw my face. "I didn't…"  
"I know you didn't." I shrugged. "Whatever, I'll eat in the car."  
Upon arrival at school, a plump woman in pink approached Bridgette and I. I wasn't sure if she was smiling too hard that I couldn't see her eyes, or she was just naturally chinky. I really couldn't tell. She had her hair in a volumized gray bun and papers in her hand, which I guessed would belong to us soon.  
"You must be the Whitman twins!" she said, excitedly. "I'm the principal of Sweet Amoris High."  
"Pleasure." Bridgette shook the woman's hand cheerily.  
"Enchante." I said, thickening my French accent as I shook her hand too.  
"I have to say, you two look nothing alike." Everyone said that.  
"It's the hair." Bridgette added, flashing the principal a wide smile. And the eyes, and the mouth, and the nose, and the cheeks, and the body.  
"Now which one is Skye and which one is Bridgette?"  
"Skye." I said, flatly.  
"Bridgette here!"  
"Well, Bridgette," Principal said, turning to my sister. "Lucky for you, your mother remembered to fill out your enrollment form, so you can go straight to class. I'll have one of the st—oh! Iris! Come over here please and show Ms. Bridgette to her class."  
Soon, a sweet looking girl with big eyes and ginger hair came into view. She waved at Bridgette and me then back at Bridgette.  
"Which one of you is she talking about?" she asked us. When the older woman motioned at my sister, they both walked off chatting about the new school.  
"I'm Bridgette." I heard her. "I'm from California."  
"Oh really I'm…"  
"So, other Ms. Whitman." The Principal addressed me, breaking me from eavesdropping into Iris and my sister's conversation. I raised my brow. Other Ms. Whitman? By the tone of her voice, I could already tell she found Bridgette more appealing than I was, which I totally didn't blame her for. I was appealing when it came to making friends, not trying to please the authorities. "Your enrollment papers should be over there with Nathaniel in the Students' Council Room. Turn in all your requirements, and you'll be an official student of Sweet Amoris High School. Good luck on your school year!"  
Before I could reply, the principal waddled away on her little heels. I guessed that I should head over to the room she showed me, not knowing where else to go. I knocked first then poked my head inside, "Hello?"  
"Can I help you?" A boy's voice asked from the other side.  
"Um yes—" I pushed the door open further, but then it bounced back at me, not budging. With both my hands and my weight, I pushed with all my strength, sucking in a breath to get it open when it suddenly swung open like butter and threw me forward, right into someone's chest.  
"W-Whoa." He coughed lightly, trying to get me back on my feet. My heart was racing from the sudden fall. I looked up with wide eyes at the face just inches away from mine. The boy was all tanned skin and tousled blonde hair, gold eyed and sweet smelling. I stepped back as fast as I could when I got my sense back. "And you are?"  
"Nathaniel." I said. "I-I mean, I'm looking for a guy named Nathaniel."  
"Lucky you bumped into him then." The boy, who I assumed was Nathaniel, joked. "That's me, by the way."  
"I figured." I said, stretching out my hand. "I'm Skylar."  
"New student?"  
"Yup."  
"Ah, one second." Nathaniel turned back to his papers and looked like he was searching for something. I took this as an opportunity to look at him. He was attractive. I couldn't deny that. He was leaning on the cute side, with his white long-sleeved polo and beige pants. He looked like a teenager trying to play dress-up. Still cute, though.  
"Here it is!" Nathaniel held up a paper and admiring it like he had found a needle in a haystack. "This is your enrollment form. I just need an ID picture and $25, then you're good."  
From my bag, I took out the requirements. I never guessed that having an emergency ID picture would come so much in handy.  
"Thank you." Nathaniel politely said as he took the items from me, then handed me my own set of papers. "And here is your class schedule and a map of the school, in case you can't find some of your classes."  
I eyed the map, struggling to make sense of it, then turned it around a couple of times. No matter what I did, it still looked like a bunch of boxes to me. So this was the stereotypical saying "women can't read maps" being proved right.  
"Need help?" Nathaniel asked. I nodded, not even bothering to hide my cluelessness. He seemed like a guy available to help anyway. Nathaniel took out a red pen from his breast pocket and set the map on the table. He drew a star on one of the boxes.  
"So this is the Student's Council Room." He said, handing me back my map. "If you get lost, you can come straight to me."  
I wondered if that was Nathaniel flirting or actually telling me to ask for directions whenever I needed it. I assumed the latter.  
"But what if I was coming from…um, like this side?" I pointed at another area on the map.  
"That's the stairwell. Actually, you know what? Why don't you stay after class today? I could show you around."  
Okay he was flirting.  
"Both you and your sister!" Nathaniel added. Okay, either he was pimping or was just a really nice guy.  
"I'll tell her." I promised, then thanked him for the forms and map and everything else. He waved his hand in the air and shook his head like it was nothing. "I should get to class."  
"Right. I'd have to write you an excuse slip though." Nathaniel said. "I think I've kept you in here too long."  
"You make me sound like a hostage." I muttered.  
"In this room, you might as well be." He joked. I could see the tiredness in his eyes, and it was only the first day of school. So he really was a human that got tired of his job sometimes, etc. It shouldn't have surprised me but it did.  
Just when I heard the scribble of Nathaniel's pen on paper, the door swung open and knocked over a potted plant. Standing in the door way was the Redhead with the leather jacket.  
"What the hell is this?!" Red Hair was furious. His eyes flickered to me for a just second, but that was it. I couldn't help step back and shrink against the wall as his grey eyes burned so much, I was sure they were putting holes into Nathaniel's head. But when I looked at Nathaniel, his face seemed perfectly calm, almost indifferent.  
"What's the problem, Castiel? You've seen a late slip before." Nathaniel was checking out his nails, looking not at all interested. I could've sworn I was talking to a different person just seconds ago.  
"Yes I have. On days that I'm actually late." Red hair spat.  
"Look at the time."  
Instinctively, I looked too. It was 7:40.  
"It's not like I came right now, god dammit." I could practically see Red shake from anger. His face was tinted red, and his fists were balled up, ready to attack any time.  
"Can you prove that then? That you were here ten minutes ago?"  
"You—you fucker. You know I can't…Hey you, you're um, Brrr?"  
I shook my head. I’ve never spoken to this guy, not once in my life.  
"Ashhh?" He tried again. No. "Chrrr?"  
"Skylar." I answered, saving him from embarrassment of his little guessing game. What was he up to?  
"Right! Skylar. Almost forgot there. It's me, Castiel." He chuckled then took me by the shoulders and pressed me against Nathaniel. I quickly steadied my feet and stepped away from him, apologizing with my eyes. He nodded in acknowledgment, turning a light shade of pink. So the Nathaniel from a minute ago was still here.  
"Here's your living, breathing proof that I was not late."  
I didn't I like this Castiel guy so much.  
"What are you saying, Castiel?" Nathaniel pressed his fingers to his forehead like he was trying to calm his migraine. I noticed he turned a little blue in the face there.  
"We had breakfast together just this morning, down by the stairwell." Castiel said.  
WHAT?  
I haven't even seen this "stairwell" place!  
"Yeah, that's right." He went on, pulling out the wrapper from the burger shack earlier from his pocket. "She got a plain cheeseburger, no vegetables, no ketchup, mayonnaise, nothing. Ask her if I'm wrong."  
He wasn't. That's what surprised me the most. I looked at him, my eyes wide and wondering.  
"Well?" Nathaniel turned to me. Though I thought he was a nice guy, picked this fight in the first place.  
I sucked in a breath.  
"It's true. That's what I had for breakfast." I reached into my pocket and showed him the greasy wrapper.  
Castiel smirked, patted me on the shoulder, and left the room. When I turned back to Nathaniel, he was rubbing his forehead again.  
"I should get to class." I said again, picking up our conversation from a while ago. I could tell taking Castiel's side upset him. What was up with them anyway? Were they sworn enemies or something? Then again, who was I to say anything? I'd only been here for half an hour.  
"Yes. Right, wouldn't want you to be late." Nathaniel replied sadly. "I'm sorry you got pulled into that."  
"It's fine. See you around then."  
Just as I opened the heavy door, Nathaniel stopped me.  
"Wait, um, I'll take you to class. Let me just fix these papers."  
"Yeah, okay."  
Outside, Castiel was leaning against the lockers, all leather and denim. His red hair was a huge contrast compared to the monotonous silver-blue of the lockers. I noticed he wore a Winged Skull t-shirt, but I didn't bother bringing them up. When he spotted me, he pushed off and smiled.  
"Hey you, thanks for covering for me."  
"It was whatever." I shrugged my shoulders.  
"I owe you then." Castiel said, a playful smile on his lips. His eyes said otherwise though, still steely and cold. "You actually planning to going to class or will I be showing you around for the rest of the day?"  
All I really did was pull out a wrapper. He didn't have to repay me with anything, though I didn't mind getting a free tour…  
No Skye, My mother's voice rang in my head. School is your number one priority. She always laid the academic excelling part on me ever since kindergarten when she realized I was good at all the hard subjects; math, science, history, art and literature. Bridgette was pretty good at P.E. and cooking class.  
"Yeah I think I'll go to class." I said, turning Castiel down. "Because of what you said, Nathaniel's probably pissed off at me."  
"That stuck up priss?" Castiel huffed. "You care what he thinks about you."  
"No, I just don't want to be on his bad side." I frowned. Nathaniel was sweet. I couldn't even fathom what he could've done to deserve Castiel's attitude towards him, or Nathaniel's to Castiel. Filed his paperwork wrong? Spelled his name weird?  
"You want to be on his good one then. For what though? A gold star?" Castiel laughed mockingly. Before I could retort back, he was already heading out of the school and shaking his head with a smirk on his face.  
God, what's his problem?  
"Hey you waited up." A voice behind me said. I spun around to find Nathaniel, composure back, pens in place.  
"Yeah, well you asked."  
"Good. Because being with me is the only way not to get a late slip to class." He winked at me and laughed. I wanted to pinch his cheeks so bad, but I controlled myself. I wasn't like that. Bridgette though, would've just gone for it while I watched.  
"Ah, is that what you gave that Castiel guy?"  
Nathaniel nodded.  
"But he was right, he wasn't late." I said. Why was I still covering up for him anyway? "Why'd you give him one?"  
"I guess I'm going to have to apologize that that one." Nathaniel said, regret spread on his face. He looked off to one side with a slight blush on his face. "I just assumed. Let's just say Castiel is never early for class…or present for that matter. He never was last year. Do you catch my drift?"  
"Yeah, I get it." I said.  
"So," Nathaniel started, offering his arm for me to take. "You ready to start the day?"  
Little did I know that wrapping my fingers around his arm was the same as accepting the invitation of ruining my day.  
There was the age-old routine of orientations, what topics would be taken up for the year, and the grading system. All of it was boring. To top it off, the second I walked in, I get bullied by a blond, mousy bitch, and even if I was pretty much holding the Student Body President in my hand, literally. He didn't say anything about it either, so I let go of him and sat at the back; not that I was complaining. Who likes to sit in the front anyway? Apparently, well, Nathaniel. I should've skipped, my mind constantly wandering to what would have happened had I taken Castiel's offer. I didn't exactly like the guy, and I wasn't for getting into trouble, but I still needed to be shown around school, and though I would've asked Nathaniel to do it, I was pretty sure that he would rather have shown Bridgette around, judging by the way they were talking in Chemistry (no pun intended here). She was putting up the I LOVE CHEM AND STUDYING AND ALL THAT act up. Though I loved my sister to death, I wondered when she would finally stop trying to be what every guy wanted her to be.  
Annoyingly, since I was the new girl, I didn't have a lab partner because everyone already had ones. So my day started off pretty bad, and Chem was only the second subject. By recess, I knew that I had made a mistake sticking around. Everyone was pulling books out of their lockers, or chatting to each other, while I didn't know a single soul. My sister or those blond girls were nowhere to be found, and neither was Nathaniel.  
"Hey Skylar, how's it going?"  
A scrawny, swirly-eyed, green-sweatered kid stepped in front of me; arms wide open like he was about to pull me into a hug. I knew that haircut anywhere.  
"What!"  
Oh dear God.  
KEN. It was Ken Stickler. Ken from my old school, Ken with the cookies, Ken who bought me flowers every Monday, Ken who wanted to always walk me home even when his house was the opposite direction and four miles from mine.  
"You're speechless eh? When I heard that you moved, I asked to be transferred to the same school as you."  
Wait, what?  
"That's great Ken." I said, forcing on a smile. "I still have some things to do though."  
"Yes, they didn't ask for many forms so it was pretty quick. I hope the kids in my class are nice."  
He obviously hasn't run into blondie and her group yet. I pitied the kid.  
Well I already knew we weren't English and Chem classmates, so I replied, "There's no reason why they shouldn't be."  
"You're right, you've got to be positive!"  
With that, he skipped away. I wondered what really was up with him. First, though I was never mean to him, I was never nice, hoping that he wouldn't take it the wrong way if I were. I thought my moving schools would be good for him too, after the four years of his stalking. I had to hand it to the guy, he was in love with me even in my awkward puberty years.  
"Making friends?"  
I jumped. Castiel came into view, hands in his pockets.  
"Skipping class?" I replied, sniffing the fresh smell of the outdoors right on his clothes. Trees. Had he been climbing any recently? There was something else too, an extremely familiar scent to me.  
"Exactly that, yes."  
Castiel had a half-smile playing on his lips, like he was asking me a question. I couldn't help but wonder, why was he talking to me? I wasn't born yesterday. There was that guy in every school, the one who kept to himself, probably just with one or two friends, and liked to keep it that way, so much that he'd go to the extent of being not-so-sweet to anyone that tried to change that. And I just found him.  
"You turned me down once, but dare I ask you again, after you've suffered two hours of this shit hole, are you actually planning on going to class?"  
Quickly, before Castiel could even notice that I was over thinking, I thought back to the last two periods and the ten minutes of recess I killed. My parents forgot to fill up my enrollment form like Bridget was an only child, had English at the back with no one to talk to, got picked on by the Regina George of the school and her dumb friends, and just found out that the hopeless romantic that's been chasing after me isn't done with me yet. To stay or not to stay?  
"No." I sighed, feeling a little bit defeated.  
"That's more like it." Castiel put on a smug look, turning on his heel towards the main doors of Sweet Amoris High School.  
"Where are you going?" I asked, catching up to him.  
"I think you mean where are we going."  
We strode outside, and the first thing I did was stop and suck in a big breath of fresh air. Being outside the school made me feel like I was a patient finally being released from the hospital.  
"Are you coming or what?"  
Castiel was looking at me, tapping his foot, looking slightly annoyed. I nodded, trotting down the stairs towards his car. When I hesitated to open the door, expecting he was a gentleman enough that he would, Castiel just strode past me and jumped into the driver's seat.  
"You're kind of slow aren't you?" he commented, rolling down the windows.  
"Jerk." I clambered in after him and shut the door behind me. "Where to?"  
"You'll see."  
"You're allowed to drive?"  
Castiel picked up a white paper from the compartment. "Students' permit."  
"Yeah, but you need an adult with you." I protested.  
"Shut up, I know you've got a fake ID somewhere in your wallet."  
I was rendered speechless. Again, he knew something about me that I never mentioned. First it was my order and now this.  
"How did you…"  
"I'm right, aren't I?"  
"How the hell did you know?"  
"I guessed. And your face when I mentioned it pretty much gave it away."  
Castiel was silent for the rest of the drive as he pulled out of the parking lot and took a left, going straight ahead. I guessed it was a long road because he sped up, but after a while he took a sharp left and had my heart beating in my chest. He better not get my fake ID a real ticket.  
The town was absolutely tiny. We passed a bank and a forum place in a matter of two minutes, then took a left and passed clothes store and a jewelry store. I was going to ask again where we were headed but figured that he wouldn't have answered anyway. Though I didn't have to wait for long. Castiel parked his car in the lot of the jewelry store. What the hell were we—  
"Don't even think for a second I brought you here to buy you a ring." He spat.  
"Well, I wouldn't have said yes anyway." I shot back.  
"That's a big fat lie." Castiel rolled his eyes, turning his head towards the window.  
"It's not." I said flatly, suddenly not sure if we were just joking or not because of the tone of our voices. I decided to go with the still-joking side of me. "This relationship was going way too fast anyway."  
"It never started, never will." He deadpanned.  
I almost felt insulted until I noticed he was fighting a smile, judging by the way a small dimple appeared on his cheek.  
After one too-quiet minute, I asked, "Where are we going?"  
"No where." Castiel replied.  
"No where." I repeated, turning to face him. "Really."  
"Fine, fine," he grumbled, grabbing his jacket. "Come on."  
Following him over the parking lot fence—this part took a while and cost me a rip in my sweater. I thought Castiel would help me or untangle me or, I don't know, something, but instead he stood waiting with his arms crossed until my feet hit the ground. —We crossed a clump of trees until we reached a small hill. Castiel had more stamina than I thought, his slim legs carrying him up quickly to the top without even a pause for breath. I followed behind, still not sure what he wanted to do here.  
"And here is a hill." Castiel announced half-heartedly, throwing his arms in the air. "Welcome to the fucking boring town of Wesgrove."  
"It's not so bad." I said, moving to stand next to him. Instead of a nice view, all I saw were more clumps of trees and the roof of what looked like the mall.  
"Oh yeah, and where did you come from that was worse than this place?"  
"Never mind." I shut my mouth, thinking back to the lush trees, the cool air, the beaches, the sun, the ocean.  
"Answer the question." Castiel drawled.  
"San Diego."  
"Ah, California girl. What the hell are you doing here instead of living the life over there?"  
"Trust me, you'd rather be here than there."  
"Oh would I really." Castiel sounded bitter, and his face showed it too. His eyes were narrowed and fierce, and his fists were balled until I could see the white knuckles under the skin. "Because I love seeing that one clothes shop, or that dumb jewelry store, and I love hanging out at that dollar place or at school, right?"  
"You know what, forget it. I'm here and not there for a reason." I said, sitting down on the grass. A part of me could tell I was pushing Castiel's buttons and soon, he would just burst.  
"Whatever. Enjoy your stay. Wait, what the hell?" A white finger poked at my bag. "You brought your school stuff? Really?"  
"I forgot to put it down."  
"Alright, let's see it."  
"See what?"  
"Your shit. Girls always keep a lot of shit in their bag that they don't need."  
Before I could stop him, his hands were grabbing for my bag and turning it over, shaking it relentlessly until all its contents fell onto the grass between us.  
"Guitar picks, pencils, a notebook, hair ties, a wallet—ah there's the ID—and…smokes?"  
Castiel picked up the pack and examined it like he had never seen a cigarette box before.  
"You're trying to quit." He finally said.  
"How-"  
"I can tell. See, pack hasn't been opened yet, but the plastic around it's been ripped open a couple of times, but still not opened. So that's you probably wanting a smoke but reminding yourself not to."  
"Give me your lighter." I said.  
Castiel reached into his jacket pocket and handed me a half-empty orange one.  
"How'd you know I smoke?"  
"Well, you just handed me your lighter, didn't you?"  
"Pfft. I could've just been carrying that around. God knows there are a shit load of pyromaniacs in this world."  
"I smelled it on your clothes when you tried talking to me again." I said pointedly. "So don't try getting out of this one."  
"Touché."  
Again violating my stuff, Castiel ripped the plastic off and opened the pack, allowing himself to a stick, then offered me one. I lit his up first then mine. We both quieted down and stared at the trees, sharing a comfortable silence. Soon, I was flicking my cigarette away, which was an inch shorter, and Castiel was helping himself to a new one.  
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, remembering the mental note I made myself.  
"Doing what? Stealing your cigs?"  
"Talking to me, showing me around…or well, to this hill."  
"Well," Castiel took a drag, and then flipped his red hair out of his face. "You helped me out of a late slip this morning—one more and I wouldn't have been reaccepted into the school—and you turned down my invitation, so I had to redeem myself, of course."  
"Basically, you're doing this because you owe me."  
"Why else would I be doing this?"  
"Right."  
A part of me was disappointed, disheartened even. Here I thought he was just being nice, because why not? New girl, didn't know a thing, didn't know the town, or anyone in it. I don't know. I pushed these stupid thoughts out of my mind. Tomorrow at school, this would be nothing to him, just a little favor.  
We didn't speak much any more after that. We finished the pack without meaning to over small talk and basic questions—him answering, and sometimes refusing to answer. Not once did he ask me anything though, and some part wanted him to. But he didn't. Before the day was over, Castiel drove back to school just in time for last period. We sat in another comfortable silence at the back through Math, and just when I thought I'd seen the last of him and I was about to go home, he told me to wait up.  
He told me he had something to show me.


	3. Two: Wasted Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye decides to sit in class after her little escapade with Castiel, but her mind is elsewhere and interested in what he has to show her. 
> 
> (written in 2013)

He's a jerk. He's not even hot. His hair looks like my period. Just kidding. Actually he's kind of hot. No. No he's not, his jacket just makes his arms look good, wait what the hell?

I spent the last period trying to push any thoughts out of my head of the guy that was sitting right next to me.

Castiel was playing around with his lighter with a bored expression, rolling his thumb down, flickering the flame on, then letting go. It slightly got on my nerves that he was wasting so much oil. He was slumped in his chair, legs spread out on the floor, one arm tucked behind his head while the other played with fire. He sure knew how to treat a classroom like home.

As math went agonizingly slow, with the teacher's introductions, I found myself casually glancing at the clock. There were five minutes to go.

Wait up, his voice replayed itself in my head. I want to show you something after class.

God, I needed to get more friends, fast. Especially now that I was anticipating whatever Castiel wanted to show me. It made me feel pathetic and clingy to the one guy that had bothered talking to me without absolutely having to. So what was it? Money? A secret passage? Weed? Probably weed.

The bell rang, and before I knew it, I was springing out of my seat.

"What's the rush, New Girl?" Nathaniel said as he made his way to the back of the classroom towards Castiel and I.

"What rush? I'm not rushing." I said quickly, hoping that my cheeks weren't turning pink at the fact that Nathaniel had even bothered to come over and make a conversation with me. He really was adorable.

Red Head slung his backpack over his shoulder, though I knew by now it was empty.

"What do you want now, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes? Come over here to show Skye your lame old library?" He sneered at Nathaniel. Nathaniel twisted his lip in reciprocated resentment. Okay, I seriously needed to find out what was up with these two.

"Don't count on it, Statham." Nathaniel said, obviously trying to keep his cool. I noticed he was balling and unballing his fists as they spoke. "Sorry Skye, but I'll be busy fixing filing some papers today. At least I've got something to do with my life." I had a feeling he wasn't talking to me, especially since his golden eyes were piercing Castiel's, just as sharp, gray ones.

"Watch out, hopefully you only get papercuts this time." Red muttered.

"Don't forget to choke on your smokes on your way out." Nathaniel countered, then sauntered out into the hall.

"Tithead." Castiel muttered, stepping out. I followed behind him. "He thinks he's so much better than everyone else, just because he's Mr. Perfect."

"Doesn't being Mr. Perfect make him better than everyone else?" I asked innocently. My mistake.

"No, it fucking doesn't." Castiel snapped. I recoiled and rubbed my hand up and down my bag's strap. "Fuck this. Let's go."

"Where?"

"When will you learn that I'm not answering your damn questions?" Castiel snapped, storming off. When I didn't follow, he stopped in his tracks and turned around, giving me a face that said, Well? I frowned, both sides of my brain deciding that he wasn't hot, but he sure was hotheaded. I followed him anyway as other students walked past me, turning around, staring, and giving me looks like they had never seen a new face around here before.

Finally, Castiel stopped in front of a door, unlocked it, and trotted up the stairs behind it. I tried keeping up behind him, but once I reached the top, another door was already slightly open. I pushed it and found myself on a rooftop overlooking the whole of Wesgrove. It was pretty breathtaking and I couldn't help but stare at the quaint buildings and tall trees. Only when I was hit square in the chest by a tiny box did I snap out of it.

"H-Hey!" I protested, picking it up at my feet.

"Saved you the trouble of asking." Castiel muttered, bringing a cigarette to his lips and inhaling. I mentally thanked him. It was true, that I wouldn't have wanted to ask him anyway especially since I'm "quitting". Castiel touched the tip of his cig to mine, waited for it to light, and we smoked in silence, staring at the rest of the town. I didn't know how long we were up there, but I knew the clouds had started to move and make way for the sunset.

"I hate sunsets." I sighed, straining my eyes as we both watched the yellow yolk-looking sun.

"Because they're supposed to be fucking romantic?" Castiel snickered, tapping the tip of his cig to spill some ash off the roof.

"Because no matter how much fun, or how shitty the day was, it's still just a day, and you're going to think, hey, y'know, it's a new day tomorrow 'cause yeah, the sunset, it's over, all this shit, and I'm going to wake up tomorrow and start over. But you can't really start over. Because everything in the past is still there, all the past days, and all the sunsets you watch. The night doesn't erase what really happened, it just makes you think it can."

When I was done with my small explanation, I noticed Castiel was staring at me with a weird look in his eyes.

"Where the fuck did you come from, little girl?"

I rolled my eyes and chuckled silently. When the sun finally went down and the sky turned into a deep purple, we flicked our cigarettes off the roof and packed up our stuff.

"Thanks Castiel." I said, swinging my bag over my shoulder as he gathered some stray papers of—what? Poetry? Songs?

"For what?" Castiel asked, standing up.

"Showing me around, this roof, 'cause well, you didn't have to. It was nothing, what I said to Nathaniel this morning."

"What do you and Nathaniel have anything to do with this?" he said, wrinkling his brow and balling his fist.

"Well, you're only showing me around because you owed me for what I sa—"

"God damn it!" Castiel snapped suddenly, sounding angry. "What's up with you and thinking people owe you, anyway?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused.

"You keep asking me why I'm doing this, why I'm doing that. I do not fucking owe you anything. I do what I want."

"I asked you just this morning why you were showing me around and you said it was because you owed me for covering for you!" I shot back.

"What—Here I thought: you know, why not just be a fucking nice guy for oneday. Do the sad new girl a favor, it's not like she's got any friends. And here you are, after I just tried to do something nice for a change, accusing me of doing it out of debt. Really? I thought you could've been on top of that."

"You thought I was on top of thinking that you were being nice to me because you owed me, even when you clearly told me that was your reason?"

"That was just for the god damn hill you f—"

"Well, you know what, I'll let you out of your misery. You don't have to change or be Mr. Nice Guy anymore. You don't have to mind me any longer."

"Stop being so damn immature." Castiel rolled his eyes, stubbing out our cigarette with his foot.

"Immature. That's a new one."

"A new what?"

"Things to add on what you think of me. I'm the immature, sad, new girl with absolutely no friends. So here you go Castiel, here's my apology: I'm sorry I assumed you were doing all these things out of debt. I guess it never came to me that it was out of pity."

Before he could even reply—I didn't want him to anyway—I turned around and grabbed the doorknob, turning it with so much force, it felt like I had burned my own hand, then slammed the door behind me, running down the stairs. Though I knew no one could see me—it was too late for anyone to still be hanging around the school—I couldn't help but cover my face as I felt it heat up and my eyes fill with tears. I hated him, I told myself. I hate him I hate him I hate him—I let my feet take me as far as they could, wherever they could. I practically ran the whole school without even noticing, or tiring out. Soon, I was bursting out the door and down the steps, steps I had taken just catching with Castiel earlier that morning. But here I was, running away from him, his stupid jacket and Winged Skull t-shirt.

If he likes Winged Skull, and I hate him, then I must hate Winged Skull! I didn't even mind that I wasn't making sense in my head. I was mad and hurt, and sitting in bed until Saturday seemed extremely tempting right now. They're so sophomore year anyway! I mentally screamed. My legs darted towards my black Camaro in the almost empty parking lot. The only other car there was a small red convertible parked beside mine. When I reached the door, I noticed a silver haired boy leaning against it.

"Excuse me," I sniffled, "But could you get off my car please?"

The silver haired fellow turned around, head perfectly poised on his knuckles. His posture was probably the first thing I noticed about him, other than his Victorian-styled outfit. It was as if he was on his way for a Shakespeare audition. Maybe he was in one of my classes, but I couldn't be sure, skipping almost the whole day with Castiel. Dick.

"Sorry dear, you must be mistaken. This is my car."

"No," I wiped my eyes, frustrated with myself that the tears kept falling, even right in front of this stranger. "No, this one's my car."

"Are you sure? I can assure you this one's mine. It's got my notebooks all over the backseat."

To check if he was telling the truth, I peered into the windows. Sure enough, papers and stacks of notebooks filled the whole back area. Then it hit me: I didn't bring the car to school this morning.

"Oh. Sorry about that."

"It's alright, is there something wrong?"

"I'm fine." I lied unconvincingly, laughing even. "Why? Do I look like there's something going on?"

"Hmm, let's see. Judging by the messed up hair, the broken boot, and the flushed cheeks, nothing not really. I was just wondering."

I laughed even harder. I was grateful he didn't mention the water works. Wait, what broken boot? Oh. Shit.

"I'm Skye."

"Lysander." The silver haired boy took my hand in his. For the first time, I noticed his eyes. One was gold and the other one emerald. It left me a little bit breathless just looking at him. "Er…I haven't seen you around here."

I stopped staring immediately, realizing that a lot of people probably have done that and it made him uneasy.

Tucking my hair behind my ear nervously, I said, "I'm new. No one's seen me around here."

"You would've been in at least one of my classes? With a face like yours, I wouldn't have forgotten."

I blushed, though I was sure he couldn't tell since I was still red from crying.

"Oh… well…"

"You didn't fall for the, Skip Class With Me Castiel classic, did you? Ah. You did."

I nodded, wiping the tears from my eyes and laughing.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Skye. Just say the word and I'll be there to beat whoever bastard made you cry like this."

I smiled. Honestly, I really appreciated how he was being so nice to me, and it wasn't even because I had done anything. And something about him was pleasant and intriguing. I couldn't see right through him like I usually could with other people.

"Thanks Lysander. I'll give you a call when he needs his ass kicked." I joked around. "Okay, it's getting late. I should head home. It really was nice meeting you."

Lysander looked around the area.

"And where might your car be?"

"Oh, I left it at home." I said, already a few feet away from him.

"You're planning on walking?" he asked me, looking a little bit worried.

I nodded, and then continued my pace. The house wasn't that far, and I made it this morning. Just when I thought I had distanced myself from the school and it was okay to cry again—talking to Lysander made me stop without me even noticing—I heard the purr of an engine behind me.

"I'm not letting you walk alone, especially since it's getting dark!" Lysander called to me. He was in his car, slowly following me.

I shook my head. "You don't have to do this!"

"Too late, I'm already driving."

Against my better judgment, I opened the door to the Camaro and hopped in. A soft voice was singing over some very skillful guitar playing on the radio.

"Aren't you busy? I mean, I'm sure you had something better to do than wait outside the school to take a girl home."

"Oh, well I wish that was my daily schedule." Lysander joked. "But sadly, no. I was there waiting for a friend, but he was taking long, obviously."

"Taking long doing what?" I asked. "Oh, sorry, you don't have to answer that. I don't want to be nosy or anything."

"No, it's fine." Lysander replied calmly. "I guessed he was hooking up with a girl and they'd be done by now, but obviously not, so I'm left wondering what could be keeping him. When I saw you walking, I decided taking you home would quell my boredom."

"Well, I'm happy to help." I laughed again. Lysander and I talked more, mostly about where I came from and his fashion choices. I found out that his brother designed clothes, and I should check out his stuff once in a while. Then there was more small talk, but it was the most comfortable conversation I had all day.

"Oh, here, just go straight." I said as we neared my street. "It's this one."

There, embarrassingly, was the black Camaro just like the one I was riding in. I blushed just seeing it and stepped out of the car.

"Thanks so much, Lysander." I said, bending down to thank him.

"It's nothing. Will I get the honor of hanging with you tomorrow at school? Lunch?"

"Yes." I smiled, broader than I expected to. "I'd like that."

With that, Lysander backed out of my driveway and sped off. All in all, it hadn't been a great day, but definitely meeting Lysander had mended it, almost. At least I knew that I had someone to eat lunch with tomorrow, thankfully skipping today since I wasn't there. It would have been hell to eat alone. As I stepped inside my house, Lysander was the only thing on my mind, and even before I fell asleep.

The next day at school, I arrived early with Bridgette. Here's to the second day of hell. Thankfully though, I had something to look forward to. There was lunch with Lysander, my only new friend that I was sure about. The first two classes dragged and all I could wish for was that Castiel was skipping the day again and I wouldn't have to see him yet. I was already dozing off before the lesson had even begun. When it came to recess, I stepped outside to the courtyard for fresh air.

"You know, studies show that students that don't fall asleep in class are likelier to pass their tests?" The voice, the silver hair, the gold and emerald eyes. "Hey there."

Lysander was in another Victorian Era themed get up, this time with accents of royal blue instead of aqua. I didn't even notice that he was in my Literature class, but obviously he did if he caught me sleeping at the back. He greeted me with his calm eyes and small smile. Gosh, he was cute.

"It's not lunch." I said. "I believe it's not time for us to hang yet."

"Ah, but I couldn't resist, seeing you just standing here." Lysander replied, his head perched on his knuckles again. "I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?"

"Other than me breathing, nope nothing at all."

"Good. You seem a lot better than yesterday."

"I am!" I flashed a smile. "I don't know why, but I feel so much better. Thanks."

"Oh the drive was nothing. I'd do it again if you asked… Do you need another one today?"

"No, no," I shook my head quickly. "I remembered to bring my car this time."

"Well, I'll be here if you need one." Lysander offered. "So how's your day been so far?"

Again, our conversation started with the basics, small talk, the morning, the classes. Then, like we were back in kindergarten or something, I took out crackers from my bag and cracked them all in half. We shared them over what we were talking about, and I had fun. It was the fastest twenty minutes of my life.

"We better get back to class." Lysander abruptly rose from his seat. I got off the bench too and dusted off my tights. "I'll see you at lunch?"

"Wait up for me!" I yelled, running back into school.

By lunchtime, I was starving. Lysander waited for me outside the door like he promised.

"That was hell." I muttered.

"Hmm, I rather like History. It makes you learn from the past's mistakes." Lysander's eyes sparkled as he mused.

"Too many wars though. I can't believe we started off the year talking about one."

"I'll have to agree with you on that one." Lysander nodded. I hated talking about the war. It made me tear up just thinking of everyone who died. Today though, I didn't. My eyes were exhausted from crying. I was just glad Lysander didn't notice my eyes were puffy from yesterday, or if he did, he was nice enough not to mention it.

"I have to tell you, there's a friend that'll be joining us for lunch." He said. "You don't mind do you?"

"Not at all." I said, smiling.

"Now that's the spirit!"

We made our way to the courtyard. The day seemed perfect to eat lunch outside, so I insisted that we did instead of in the cafeteria. Lysander didn't complain and quickly sent a text to whomever I'm guessing was dining with us. We passed by the cafeteria quickly, both of us buying a sandwich each, then water for Lysander and orange juice for me. When we got back to the courtyard, I was grateful that no one had occupied the benches yet.

"Wow, we got lucky!" I said, grinning as I plopped down on the seat.

"How so?" Lysander asked. He handed me my sandwich and carton of orange juice as he unwrapped his own lunch.

"Well, no one took the bench."

Lysander seemed to smile at my comment, like I had said something completely innocent and he knew much better.

"The bench is never taken, dear." He replied. "Let's just say…Cas and I's reputation keeps it that way. More of Cas's."

"Who?"

Just then, I heard boots drag against cement. And it wasn't an unfamiliar sound to my ears.

"What the hell?"

I looked up. Oh God, I was going to be sick. Red hair, red shirt, bomber jacket, black jeans, all of that I could see from the corner of my eye.

"Now, now, Cas, no need to be a prick." Lysander didn't even look up from his sandwich, taking a generous bite then wiping the corner of his lips with a handkerchief.

"You could've given me a heads up that we'd be having a guest." Castiel grumbled. "New girlfriend, Lys?"

Finally, I turned to acknowledge him. He had a scowl on his face and a gaze that made me feel cold all over. He even had his arms crossed. His whole posture screamed jerk.

"I'm leaving." I said, grabbing my plain cheese and bread sandwich, and my drink, before standing up.

"Oh no you don't—" Lysander's firm grip found my arm. I stopped my tracks as he came into view. "Cas, please stop being a dick? It's only the second day of school."

"First day, fifth day, last day…does it matter what day I decide to be one?" Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Skye," Lysander turned back to me. "Please, eat with us? I warned you didn't I?"

"I should've gotten more than a warning." I grumbled, sitting back down on the bench. "I think I deserve more like a tutorial."

"You're right, remind me to orient you next time." Lysander smiled brightly. Suddenly, I wasn't so mad anymore. Then again, he was still there. Castiel sat down beside Lysander and munched on his burger in silence as Lysander and I chatted lightly.

"Hey Cas," Lysander nudged Castiel's shoulder after our long conversation about Shakespeare and all the words he's made. "Will we still be going to that party this weekend?"

"The one with that old guy throwing it?" Castiel said. "Whatever. Your call."

"Boris is not that old." Lysander said. "And I think Skye needs to attend one as soon as possible."

"Oh, I don't think I'm invited to that one, my sister is though…" I said, recalling our conversation of the night before, finishing off my sandwich.

"Nonsense." Lysander said, looking off to somewhere distant. Both his eyes gleamed. "We'll pick you up at 8 tomorrow and that's that."

The Next Day

By seven on Saturday evening, I was ready from head to toe. I couldn't do much with my hair, seeing as it was too short to style. I had planned to curl the ends a bit, but Bridgette had taken the curler off to Amber's place, even though she had natural curled hair. She insisted it was important and took the car with her too. I did my make up, lining my eyes with black and a dark brown eye shadow before coating my lips in a thin layer of chapstick. I wasn't really sure what kind of party we were going to so I decided to play it safe and wear dark skinny jeans with a white tank top and a black jacket with flats. Lysander and Castiel arrived right on time.

"Someone looks good today." Lysander teased. It seemed somewhat out of character for him, but it made me smile.

"As do you." I curtsied and followed him outside to his car. Castiel was sitting in the passenger's seat, looking bored as he texted away on his phone. I wasn't the least bit surprised that he didn't come out to even acknowledge me. I promised myself to stay away from him the whole night if I could help it.

We took off towards a house outside of Wesgrove. It was a big yellow one, very beach-themed with palm two palm trees in the front. It made me miss California. Inside, music was blaring loudly. I noticed the lack of drinks compared to parties back in San Diego. Here, more people danced and talked rather than drank. It was actually nice. Also, everyone looked so different. It was definitely a drastic change compared to the bleach blond hair and tanned skin I was used to. Here, everyone came in different get ups. Some had big Afros and wore jerseys; a lot had colorful hair and odd outfits. One girl even wore a pair of fake wings.

The moment we stepped into the party, Castiel made a beeline for the bar. I could tell we both planned on avoiding each other for the evening. I spotted my sister, her curly brown hair in a high ponytail, wearing a sparkly silver tank top, which was…mine. I decided to let it go and steal something from her closet later on. She was with Li, the lipstick girl. Amber was standing off in a corner, surrounded by boys while Charlotte was nowhere to be found.

"Would you like a drink?" Lysander asked me. I remembered what my Auntie said: Never let a boy get you a drink. Ever. Though I knew Lysander could be trusted, I still only knew him for three days, so I refused and got myself one. Castiel was already on his second beer and had girls I didn't recognize from school fawn over him. Funny, he was the only guy I knew that looked pissed off when girls did that. He looked over at me as I grabbed a cruiser from the cooler and popped the cap open. We exchanged glances for a long time awkwardly until he decided to mind one of the girls teasing him.

"Look at this bad boy." She giggled, red in the face. "All leather jacket and crossbones."

"That is so hot." Another one said, stroking his arm up and down.

"You're all fucking drunk." Castiel muttered, sipping from his beer and pulling himself away from the bar. He disappeared from my sight into the crowd and loud pumping music.

"Cassie wait!" One girl yelped, stumbling into the throng of people after him.

"Yeah wait up!" the other two followed. I sighed and tried chugging down my drink.

"Whoa, slow down there. You don't want to get drunk this early." Someone said from behind me.

"Nathaniel!" I said, smiling. His presence caught me off guard, just because he seemed all work and no play. It kept me from thinking he had a life outside being Student Body President. Instead of his usual white dress shirt, he was wearing a dark blue button-down polo that was folded at the elbows and black jeans. He looked great, and really not boring.

"It's nice to see a new student getting out and making friends." He said, smiling.

I scoffed. "It's not like I'm incapable of any of that."

"Oh I know, I know. One look at you and I knew you wouldn't have a problem. Do you dance?"

I laughed, shrugging my jacket off and hanging it on the chair.

"Show me your moves, Mr. President." I said, offering a hand to Nathaniel. I pulled him into the crowd of people and didn't mind the way everyone pressed against my back. Under the strobe lights, Nathaniel's gold eyes were like stars, and his hair just accented everything. I hated to admit it about the guy, but he was kinda gorgeous. We danced along with the beat, a familiar song by Guetta. Nathaniel was good, easy with the eyes and his body. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Castiel drinking another beer and watching me. I looked away whenever I caught his eye, but I couldn't help it. Why the hell was he staring? Then Nathaniel held me by the waist, the pads of his fingers on my bare skin, and I was distracted again by his bright eyes. By the time the song was over, I was panting, my face mere inches away from Nathaniel.

"Who knew Ms. Skylar Whitman was such a party girl?" Nathaniel breathed, walking back to take our place by the makeshift bar by the counter.

You have no idea, I thought, thinking back to how it used to be.

"Well, look at you Mr. Student Body President. And here I thought you were programmed only for paperwork."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes with a smile but never said anything bad about school. I joked about him being so uptight, and he agreed, surprisingly, that he needed nights like these more. I admitted to him that his position was one of the reasons I didn't talk to him much in school. We laughed over it, and I would have said more, if I didn't notice Nathaniel had stopped and was looking over my shoulder. I turned around and standing behind me was Castiel.

"Do you mind?" Castiel said to Nathaniel, slipping his hand around my arm.

"If Skye's okay with it." Nathaniel shrugged.

I turned around to face Castiel. I had meant to hold two hands up to signal him to step away, but instead found my hands pressed to his chest.

"Castiel, what do you want?" I asked him.

"You still pissed off?" he asked me, grey eyes burning into my own.

"Yes." I breathed.

"Good. Me too. Let's take a shot."

Castiel rounded up a dude in a white tank top to pour us a round of shots. He laid out eight glasses and poured in tequila, then laid out a big bottle of sprite for us to use as a chaser. I looked at them in shock.

"What's wrong? New girl never had a drink before?"

I practically burst out laughing. No, I reminded myself, you're not that girl anymore.

"You can tell?" I lied.

"The way you're looking at the shots gives you away." Castiel answered. I rolled my eyes. I knew I'd be tipsy straight away if I downed them all. But Castiel was so challenging and I wanted so bad to punch him in the face that I accepted. I was the first to grab a shot and down it, shaking my head as the heat burned my throat. Castiel took one too. The next three, we downed together.

"You lied." Castiel said, once we were done. I handed him the big Sprite bottle when I was finished.

"What are you talking about?"

"Fucking liar." He snickered. "That was not your first drink ever."

"How could you tell?" I asked innocently. My head was already fuzzy and if it weren't for the bar stool; I'd be stumbling.

"Alcohol virgins can't take tequila on their first try."

"I lied." I shrugged. "Get over it."

Why was I talking like this? Ah, fuck that. I knew it was the alcohol spewing words out of my mouth. I was trying to change, remember? Fuck me. I was dizzy.

"Now," Castiel pushed himself off the stool. "We dance."

Castiel took my hand and once again, I was enveloped into the dance floor full of people. A Swedish House Mafia song started playing, and my head filled with memories of watching them live, raving with them along with my friends. Castiel brought me back, firm hands on my hips as we swayed to the steady beat. Soon, the rhythm picked up and I was leading, Castiel answering me move for move with the way he danced. He was good, knowing exactly where to put his hands and when to let go. The song built up and there. The bass dropped. The effects of the alcohol slowed my mind. The song slowed and Castiel and I were grinding to the music. Then just like that, the bass drop was over and we were moving again. When the song was over, my face was pressed to his cheek, and we were breathing, hard.

"Castiel." I said, hoping to talk to him now about what had happened yesterday. But Castiel gave me one look and walked off without another word.

"Skye!" Lysander found me hours later. I didn't know where I was. Where the hell was I? Why was there a couple making out right beside me? How long have I been sitting on this couch? "Have you seen Cas?"

"Have you seen my sister?" I countered.

"Nathaniel brought her home, I think." Lysander answered. Wow, I didn't expect that.

"I'll take that as a no." Lysander frowned, wiping his face with his palm. He looked calm as ever, even when I could tell he was somewhat panicky.

"Okay, okay," I grumbled. "No need to beg, I'll help you find him."

"Thank you." Lysander sighed.

"I saw him just a while ago." I said to him, getting to my feet, and stumbling a little bit as I did. "We were just dancing."

"I saw you two." Lysander said. "And that was two hours ago."

T-Two hours? Did I pass out or something?

"Oh. I'll—uh—check the rooms then." I said.

"I'll look outside." Lysander suggested. We nodded at each other before separating ways.

I didn't know how long it took me, but I found Castiel before Lysander did. Yes, it took a while because my head wouldn't let me walk straight and neither did my legs. I walked over a couple of people, scattered on the floor, and walked into some as I checked the rooms, but finally found Castiel sprawled all over the bathroom floor, an empty bottle of Gin in hand.

"Cas." I groaned, kicking him lightly with my foot. "Castiel, get up."

Castiel groaned shaking his head and tossing around.

"Fuck off." He moaned.

"Lysander!" I yelled, making Castiel cringe. "Lys, I found him!"

In a second, Lysander was by my side.

"Alright, let's do this…"

Together, we hoisted Castiel to his feet, slinging both arms around our shoulders. It took what felt like forever, but we finally got to Lysander's car. Since Castiel wouldn't remember it anyway, we kind of just dumped him in the backseat. I giggled as I watched him make noises as he slept.

"I can't leave Cas like this…" Lysander said as he drove back into Wesgrove. "And I doubt I can handle him at my place." He sounded more like he was talking to himself but I piped up anyway.

"My parent's are out tonight." I volunteered.

"Really?"

"Yeah. My dad said he has another business meeting out of town. We can freshen up Castiel over there." God, right after his boss moves him here, he demands so much already. I felt bad for my dad, really.

Lysander looked at me for what felt like a long time, but didn't say anything. When we got home, I helped Lysander drag Castiel inside and upstairs to my bathroom. We propped him against the toilet then tried to wake him up. It worked but only resulted in Castiel calling me a liar and a bitch, Lysander apologizing and Castiel announcing that Lysander's eyes are "fuckin trippy to look at if you ask me". Then he threw up. Instinctively, like he was one of my friends back home, I held his hair back until he passed out.

"You're like a mother." Lysander said, watching me.

"Yeah, let's just say back in California, we all were assigned to be each other's moms when there was a party, and I wasn't the best one. So tonight, I think this is me redeeming myself."

Lysander bowed his head and applauded me softly. We both brought Castiel to my bed and let him lie there for a bit.

"I like your room." Lysander commented.

"Don't mind the boxes." I shrugged. "It's not finished yet."

"The books, the Shakespeare posters, the pictures on the wall, the guitar over there…It's like I'm reading a biography of you."

"What does that mean?" I laughed.

"You don't volunteer things about yourself, but one look at your room and you have an idea."

I smiled again; something Lysander did to me a lot with his little remarks. I offered him something to eat. We shared a glass of cool-aid and a pack of graham crackers, and talked about the party. So Nathaniel drove my sister, Amber, and the rest of her posse home. Castiel got wasted (duh) and some guy—according to Lysander—was the talk of the party. His name was Dajan and he was supposedly a star when it came to basketball. Sadly, I didn't notice anyone there. Then it came back to me that I met a few people, but I couldn't piece things together yet. It was too late for that. When the sun had started to rise, Lysander and I carried Castiel all the way out into his car. Lysander thanked me with a squeeze on my hand and drove away. Right then, I knew that whatever friendship we had would work out.


	4. Three: Liars and Fakes

A month passed a lot faster than I thought.

Since the party, it was pretty much an unspoken agreement that we'd all just hang out together. It was Lysander, Castiel and I, eating lunch or smoking behind the school (while Lysander commented on the bad effects of nicotine on our bodies) or watching movies or spending study period together. So it took some getting used to for Castiel (and I mean a bunch of arguments and insults) and a little bit of scolding from Lysander, but he eventually realized that his efforts on trying to ignore me were useless and I was here now. At first, he was completely against it. And I mean even more against it than he was now.

"What the hell man?" Castiel hissed to Lysander on the Monday morning after the party as they had their little "man talk". Someone really needed to teach the guy how to whisper.

"What now, Cas? She's cool, and I like having her around."

"You fucking like having everyone around."

"That's not true and you know it." Lysander replied, brushing his knuckles against his chin. "Remember when I was a new student and you hung out alone smoking by yourself? Imagine if you never walked up and talked to me for looking out of place."

"Then we wouldn't be having this really annoying conversation right now?" Castiel retorted.

"No…" Lysander dragged. "You'd be missing out on a good friendship and a musical partner." I continued to scroll through messages on my phone, trying to look busy, minding my business and totally not eavesdropping on their conversation about me. In reality, I only had around three; one from Bridge, one from my Aunt, and one from Nathaniel asking me if I needed any tutoring. I decided not to answer that one yet. The school year had just started then and I wasn't having any trouble with subjects. Then again, I wasn't sure how the rest of the year would go by…

"Will you just try and talk to her?" Lysander pressed, sounding exasperated as if he was talking to a wall and expected a reply. "You barely even know anything about her."

Hmm, wow, the concrete looks pretty interesting. What else can I stare at without looking awkward?

"I know her enough." Castiel spat. I could feel his dagger eyes piercing the crown of my head. My blood boiled again just hearing his voice but I tried staying still in my seat.

"You know, she helped me take care of you right?" Lysander said, not-so-quietly.

"What are you going on about, Lys?"

"Just last Saturday. Her parents were out and she took care of you in your drunken state."

"What the…"

After that, the boys finally learned how to whisper softly. Ugh how annoying. I really wanted to hear the next part, but I busied myself with my carton of apple juice.

I felt bad for lying to Lysander the day before. Parents out on a business trip? Yeah right. But I couldn't spill that secret just yet. I mean how do you even say that to someone? What would they even reply? My dad cheated on my mom so she dumped my sister and I here to live a fucking awesome Vegas life. Sorry for not telling you the truth the first time, Lysander.

Yeah, no, don't think so.

The boys came back shortly, Lysander looking pretty satisfied while Castiel had his hands in his pockets.

"I think an introduction is needed. Another one, I mean." Lysander said, clapping his hands together. When I looked up at him, his green eye looked much calmer and had a nice spark to it. "Skylar, this is Castiel. Castiel, meet Skylar."

"Hi."

"Hey."

"Friends?" Lysander said, taking a resisting Castiel's wrist and my limp one, trying to get us to shake hands. Finally, Castiel stopped struggling and shook my hand, muttering something and looking off somewhere else.

After though, it didn't believe it for one second. As I walked up to my car at the end of the day, I felt a telltale hand wrap around my arm and spin me around.

"Don't even think for one second that we're friends, just because you've got Lys under that little spell of yours." Castiel spat. His grey eyes were burning and his red hair, if anything, emphasized his anger.

"I honestly have no idea what the hell you're talking about." I said. Honestly, what was up with this guy? Could he really not leave me alone about anything? My hazel eyes challenged his coal grey ones.

"You know what I'm talking about. Your 'lost, innocent, new girl that needs friends ASAP' act. Just so you know, I don't believe in any of that crap. You're smarter than that and you know it."

"Fuck off." I said, seething. "You don't know me. That's pretty obvious with all these assumptions you're making."

"You've lied to me a couple times and I met your less than a week ago, it's not impossible that you'd do it to Lysander. He's a good guy, but sometimes he just can't tell when something not-so-good is standing right in front of him." Castiel said, inching his face closer to mine as he spoke. I turned my head and tried catching someone's eye, but everyone went on with their business. God was he that scary? 'Cause I wasn't in the least bit intimidated.

"What? Are you telling me I'm not good enough to be friends with Lysander? And I suppose you are?"

"You're dangerous, and you're trouble, I can see it."

"I'm none of that." I said. I used to be. But I'm not. Not anymore.

"I know your type." Castiel said. "I've seen things, met a girl like you once. You've got secrets and a hell of a past you're running away from. Don't deny it or bring Lysander and I into this."

"Is this supposedly your thank you for holding your hair when you puked in my house the other day?" I countered. Suddenly all this arguing had me lost and I wasn't sure what we were fighting for anymore.

"It wasn't my choice I was brought there." Castiel said. "It was a wrong move on Lys's part. And yours if you didn't want me there so bad."

"Maybe I did want you there." I said, nonchalantly. "What about that?"

Castiel shot me a puzzled but still angry look.

"What are you—"

"Maybe I volunteered to help you out at my place—"

"To help Lysan—"

"To fucking help you." I expressed, balling my fists and pressing them against the hood of my Camaro. I saw Bridgette watching the whole scene out of the corner of my eye as she clambered into Amber's yellow Volkswagen beetle. I caught Amber too, staring at Castiel and I.

"What the—"

"That's right, Castiel. Not to help Lysander, because he really didn't get anything out of that. He'd have to take you home anyway. Me? I didn't have to get involved but I did—"

"Oh don't give me that crap. You could've walked away if you weren't so god damn hypnotized by my best friend—"

"I don't like Lysander, god dammit!" I screamed in his face. Everywhere, I knew people were watching and staring at us. I prayed Lysander was already home and didn't hear about any of this. I knew this feeling. I got it way too much back then. Everyone was trying to look busy with something or finding an excuse to stay in the area and watch the scene. "Did you ever get it in your head that I probably wanted to help you? Did that ever occur to you, Cas?"

"And why the fuck would you do that, huh?" Castiel asked, his voice still firm and loud.

"Maybe because I wanted to fix things, you fuck!" I screamed in Castiel's face. "We pretty much fucked that up on the first day we met and God, you know I don't have friends in this shit hole of a school, so what's the problem if I was trying to be nice?"

"Oh, are we really doing this again? This whole 'being nice' thing? Really—"

"Why the hell is it so hard for you to believe that I wanted to be friends!" I yelled. Did I care that probably the whole Wesgrove heard me? No. Not one bit. Not anymore that Castiel was pissing me off this bad. I could feel my face redden as I waited for Castiel's reply. "Why the hell are you giving me shit and assuming all these things about me?"

"Listen up, new girl." He finally said, ignoring my questions, stepping even closer to me and whispering in my ear, his voice steely. "We'll keep up this friends act, because we both pretty much care about Lys. Don't deny you do, because everyone does. But never think for one second that we will ever be anything close to that."

Before I could reply, I felt tears brim at my eyes and blur my vision as Castiel pushed off my car hood and stormed away. What the hell was that?

I could tell it was important to Lysander for some reason for both of us to get along. I felt a bit guilty; I mean I kind of intruded on their little duo thing going on, so I didn't blame Castiel for not liking it, but that guilt was quickly taken over when I thought of Castiel and how he really was the biggest douche bag on the planet. He repulsed me. When I told Lysander a week after we had shook on becoming "friends" that it was fine, Iris and Melody's lunch table looked like a pretty fun place to sit, he refused.

"No, Skye, I'm not letting a potential friend like you get away that easily."

"Lys, it's only been a week since you tried getting Castiel and I to get along. Has that been working? Can you honestly name a day of the week when we're not together and fighting?"

"You two bicker like kids." Lysander said, smirking. "If you can do that, you can make up and play like kids too."

I sighed, looking at the ground.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "You don't even know me."

"And I never will if you leave now and sit with them." Lysander replied, motioning to the cafeteria doors. His silver hair looked white under the sun, and his eyes were shining, both of them. I didn't know what to say, a little bit shocked by his remark, and also by the fact that he was talking really close to me and I could pretty much feel his warmth all around. And oh my God were his eyes beautiful, from afar and up close.

Skye! Stop it! Stop. It. Even if they are pretty gorgeous.

I wanted to rip my hair out. Why was this school full of such attractive people?

After that though, I knew when I let Lysander lead me back to the bench with Castiel that there was no turning back. I would have to put up with Mr. Dickhead because, though I didn't know him that well, I cared about Lysander. He was the only guy that's put in a lot of effort to try and get to know me, and though he seemed closed off and didn't show much of his emotions, he had an effect on me that made myself feel like an open book around him. I almost broke one night last Saturday when he called me on the phone just to talk. He told me his parents preferred to live in more rural areas, and left him to his older brother. I admitted that my parents weren't living with my sister and I either, my voice cracking. I was just lucky Lysander could tell I didn't want to talk about it, so he didn't ask.

So, things I learned about the two: Castiel and Lysander were in a band together. Sort of. They played music. Lysander was the voice and the words, and Castiel was the melody and the guitar. Also, the two had little in common, but for some reason, got along really well. I could see it when we'd be at Lysander's place just hanging out or when we were in class and they'd be thinking the same thing, they'd glance over at each other and nod. Or when they'd have petty arguments, they both knew when to stop without having to apologize. I hated to admit it. It was stupid but I was jealous since the only person I could do that with was Bridgette, and most of the time, she didn't even get me right. Hell, I was sure she didn't know my favorite ice cream flavor if you asked her.

But I was grateful anyway for my two friends, if you could consider Castiel a friend. A better way of saying it was an acquaintance that I was with. A lot. We still barely spoke, only when Lysander would pull us into the same conversation, and when we did, it usually ended in petty insults and little arguments. It was weird though. I was never the type to want to pick fights, not unless I knew the person well enough to really let my anger out on them, but somehow I felt like that was the only way I could say I knew Castiel. We brought out the worst in each other, Lysander said so himself, but still. I never voiced so many thoughts to a person in my life until Castiel came along. It was unhealthy, but still. It was something.

We couldn't help it though. There were days that I couldn't stand him or he couldn't stand me, and we knew it. I was just grateful for Nathaniel to keep me company on those days. He was a nice guy, maybe a little too uptight, but at least he was humble enough to admit it. Plus, he was actually fun to talk to. In the end, I accepted his offer to tutor me, even though I didn't need it. Better to be safe than sorry right?

Another thing that happened within the month was Ken. No, God, we did not start dating. Not that I was saying he didn't have potential… One day he came to school crying and looking for me, just to tell me he was going to military school. His father was pulling him out and making him a man because of the dumb bimbo Amber. I felt obliged to cry with him too, but my eyes just wouldn't give. Heartless bitch, my conscience tsked, but I still couldn't. Instead, I gave Ken a hug and accepted the teddy bear he left me. The rest of that day was filled with Castiel teasing me about Ken, me swatting his face repeatedly with the stuffed toy, and Lysander having to step in and keep the bear in his locker until dismissal before any of us got hurt.

I had other friends too though. Most of them, I met at Boris's party but couldn't recall, not really being in the right mindset. Some of it came back to me though. There was a girl named Melody, who I quickly figured had a thing for Nathaniel (I mean seriously, who can even stand staying that godforsaken room all the time unless you were there for a certain blond-haired student body president, right?), Capuccine, who I suspected was a teensy bit bi-curious, if you know what I mean, judging the way she looked at you with those sleazy eyes and the sneaky smile, Kim, who only liked shopping at Hot Topic, hated me but warmed up pretty quickly to my sister, and labeling me as competition and "soft grunge" whatever that meant, Rosalya, a mysterious, sassy, but right-in-the-head girl with a strange fashion sense and thigh-length, gorgeous silver hair, and Violette, sweet and silent but insanely talented in art class.

So things were actually going pretty good for me in Wesgrove, especially here in Sweet Amoris. Though I knew I wasn't an all-around girl like Iris, I was pretty happy with my relationship with everyone. Just not Amber and co, yes, that was including my sister. I tried to warn her. Seriously, I did, but the stubborn chick wouldn't listen. Oh and Kim. She really hated my guts. Castiel was complicated.

"What ho!" Lysander called to me as I crossed the parking lot towards the black Camaro. The sun was starting to set, and students flocked out of Sweet Amoris like it was a prison. I stopped my tracks even if the October air was a bit chilly, and waited for him to come in-step with me. Today, he was in his usual Victorian-styled get up, but instead of any teal, he wore a deep plum color.

"A drum, a drum, Macbeth doth come." I quoted from Shakespeare.

"And how goes today, love, my Lady Macbeth?"

"Oh in your dreams, my thane." I laughed, throwing my head back. "It was boring. School, as usual."

"And how were you and Castiel?"

"We smoked but didn't speak. Good day."

"Thank God for me." Lysander had made a habit of counting the days when Castiel and I didn't erupt, though he knew I didn't like to be reminded so he never mentioned the number of good and bad days we had.

"It was still a pretty bad day though."

"Well then," Lysander said, "lucky for you, it's a Tuesday. You know what that means."

"Oh Lys…" I rolled my eyes. "Are you sure lucky is the word for it?"

"Don't pretend you don't have fun. Lying doesn't suit you." Lysander smirked.

Right. The only thing Nathaniel was shit at tutoring me with was Literature. Enter Lysander, who loved it. When I told him about how Nathaniel couldn't decipher Shakespeare talk at all, he was more than happy to volunteer. I had to let him, even if Lysander and I both had Literature together and he knew I was actually pretty good at understanding it. He just had this extremely happy face on, and that was something you barely saw on Lysander, all smiles and crescents in his eyes.

When we reached my house, we dropped our bags by the door and locked the door behind us.

"Bridge, I'm home!" I yelled, trotting up the stairs with Lysander behind me.

"Is the white-haired freak there? Don't make him come up, my room's a mess." My sister called. I poked my head into my room, but there was a bookshelf moved out of the way and blocking my view from everything.

"Yes, he is here." Lysander said, poking his head in too. "And yes, you are a mess aren't you, Bridgette?"

"Ugh, back again to tutor my sister aka find a way into her pants?" Bridgette groaned, though I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Yes, there's a line in Macbeth where his wife shouts 'Unsex me here'. Do you think I should try that on Ms. Skylar here?"

"Ooh, go for it! I'm sure ye olde English will charm her right to you!" Bridgette snickered cheerily. Lysander laughed goodheartedly with her.

In the past month that Lysander has been coming over, Bridgette and him had developed an odd friendship/acquaintanceship where they would constantly tease each other over the worst things, and usually it involved me. It reminded me of Castiel and I, except they're joking was light-hearted. Plus, none of them had ever even touched a hair on the other, unlike my palm and Castiel's cheek and the constant physical contact going on between the two parts.

"You guys are pervs." I muttered, making my way to my own bedroom.

"You're the worst of us!" Bridgette shouted.

I collapsed on my back on the bed, yawning. Honestly, I was too tired for tutoring, especially when I understood the book completely. Lysander followed me and pulled up a chair, kicking the door shut with his boot.

"Ready to get started?"

Within two hours, there were cookie crumbs, our Macbeth copies, an empty milk carton and Lysander's dark vest scattered around the floor.

"And then, the porter, in his drunken stupor—"

"Lys, can we take a break?" I sighed, stretching out on my bed. "It's almost seven. Aren't you hungry?"

"Hmm," Lysander hummed, brushing his chin with his index finger. "I could've sworn I made plans for tonight, but your offering to cook for me is sounding irresistible at the moment."

"Ha ha, trying that trick again? I'm ordering Chinese." I snickered, picking up my phone and dialing in the number.

"Oh please Skye, your noodles are to die for." Lysander begged. Ever since I cooked for him that one night, only because neither of us could remember the pizza delivery number, he seemed set on getting me to do it again. Bridgette was the better cook from the two of us, so I never liked doing it. "Why not?"

"Because, I don't have the ingredients." I lied. No one cooked in this house, but we both liked grocery shopping, so our fridge was pretty much stocked.

"You're lying." Lysander said. I sighed. I hated how he could read me already in the little time I knew him. I ignored him and put in our orders to an extremely hard-to-communicate with woman over the phone. Over noodles, dumpling and chicken, Lysander and I laughed off over light conversation.

"Dude, I think I have one of the old Archie comics somewhere back here." I said, sticking my chopsticks back into the box and getting to my feet.

"Oh you don't need to go bring it out." Lysander said, "Finding things are too a hassle, and they make messes."

"Shush Lys." I said, "I already know where it is." I scanned the thin books on my bookshelf, which was practically bursting with the amount of literature it carried. Call me what you want, but I love reading books.

"Found it!" I said finally, pulling the copy that was wedged tight between other comics. But when I turned back to Lysander, he was interested with something else…under my bed.

"You never said…" Lysander trailed off and tried prying the object from under. After some effort, Lysander dragged out from the depths my old bulky black guitar case. The wooden Fender logo on it still looked impeccable and so did the leathery covering. Soon, I heard the familiar clicks of the locks being unhinged and a soft pop before Lysander brandished my acoustic like it was a deadly sword, or like a newborn son.

"Lys…"

"You never said you played. And with such a beautiful guitar, I might add." Lysander played an F chord.

"Thanks." I murmured, casting my eyes towards the floor. I remember when I first laid my eyes on it a couple of years ago, how I fell in love with its natural look and the contrasting color of the wood of the front to the rest of the guitar. The six strings were still in place, and surprisingly, the neck wasn't snapped.

"What's wrong? You seem embarrassed." Lysander said. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I just…I stopped playing a long time ago." I admitted.

"May I ask why?"

He didn't have to ask. I would've told him anyway, though maybe not everything.

"Too many memories with this guitar," I murmured vaguely. "You'll figure it out one day."

Lysander looked at me and just nodded, plucking aimlessly at some strings. Soon, he was strumming a simple song, the 'magic chords', C G Am F, as Dylan and I called it. We were never that close, only seeing each other when Bridgette and Tyler needed a companion (Dylan) and he refused to be a third-wheel (enter: me) but he was the first guy I ever played my guitar for.

I listened to Lysander's soft humming, and was lost in his voice. I didn't care that he wasn't singing; the sounds he made were beautiful.

"I'm not very good at it." Lysander said, breaking the somewhat trance-like state I was in from listening to him. "Castiel's the guy you should be talking about with guitars."

"Oh…I don't know about that."

"Me being not so good at my guitar skills or talking to Castiel about them?"

"Both." I said, shrugging again.

"Dear God, it's been a month." Lysander groaned in frustration. I really wanted to reach out and apologize to him, but it wasn't my fault Castiel really was a pain in the ass when it came to being friends. "I don't understand how you two manage to still find something wrong about each other."

"Me either," I sighed. If I have that many flaws then he must too, and I'll pick on them until he runs dry. "I just don't get why. It's like he really has it out for me."

"I think…you remind him of someone." Lysander suggested. He looked at me with his multi-colored eyes, and I was pulled into listening even more. "Someone from his old self."

"Who?" I asked. "Do I look like her? Talk like her? What?"

"No…actually you look nothing alike. Your hair, your eyes, your clothes… I think it's the fact that you're so outspoken."

"I-I am?" I stammered. I knew I always voiced my opinions, but people didn't really like me for that back in my old school, so I promised myself to try controlling my tongue here at Wesgrove. "Good or bad kind of outspoken?"

"Honestly…" Lysander pondered, his chin resting on his knuckles, "Good, I guess. She was the bad kind, insulting everyone and everything that moved, but still, outspoken nonetheless."

"She didn't…um… have some kind of bad past did she?"

Lysander smirked.

"We assumed she did since she appeared out of no where, but we were right. She had a knack for manipulating people."

"Let me guess, she used Castiel?" I said.

"More than that. She made him fall in love with her." Lysander replied. He looked at me with sad eyes. "He was never the same after that."

"I had no idea." I said, casting my eyes down to my guitar in his lap.

"I've said too much." Lysander sighed. "I trust you enough that you won't mention this to Cas?"

"My lips are sealed." I reassured him. "He can't stand the sound of my voice anyway."

"I like your voice." Lysander said suddenly. "It's unique, and firm. You could be a singer, or even a news anchor."

"I'm flattered." I giggled. "Coming from you, I mean, you sound amazing."

"Thank you."

Lysander handed me my guitar, I named him Jack a long time ago after Jack Barakat from All Time Low when I was still in my alternative rock stage (not that I wasn't in one now—I just didn't show it), while my ukelele was Ezra after Ezra Kroenig or Miller. I strummed the few chords Lysander instructed me to after he guided me with the strumming pattern, and soon we were jamming to a song he wrote. His voice was compelling and made everything inside me melt. He had to be famous some day.

Just then I heard a door swing open, though it wasn't Bridgette's or mine—I figured it was the bathroom—until I heard voices, two boys and a girl. I would've gotten up to my feet and checked who it was, but Lysander was still singing, eyes clothes and head nodding to the music of my guitar that I couldn't bring myself to just stop, and the song was almost done anyway—when my own door swung open and Lysander's eyes snapped open while my head turned to whoever it was that interrupted.

Standing in bedroom door with his combat boots and dark clothes was none other than Castiel.

And wait—Nathaniel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is from my Fanfiction site, and this particular chapter was written in 2013


	5. Four: Tension

The first thing I noticed behind Castiel, outside my door, were brown curly locks. Bridgette.

 

Back in California, Bridgette had everything. Mom always liked her more, the football team, the basketball team, the cross-country team, they all wanted her, her friends, a huge group of around sixteen girls, they were _that_ group and every one wanted to be them. She even had perfect dance troupe head and quarterback, Tyler Morris as her boyfriend.

 

Bridgette was the epitome of a perfect girl to pretty much everyone. She was curvy, she was bubbly, she wore tight clothes, she had the nice princess curls, the chocolate eyes, she was charming happy and smiling and sweet all the time. She was a cheerleader, she was a great cook, she was athletic, she was cute.

 

All in all, she was better than me. Yup, there was always the better twin and Bridgette won that by a long shot.

 

At first, I tried to outdo her. When my hair was long and a red-ish brown, an even lighter shade than Bridgette’s, I’d try to curl my hair nicer than hers, but that never worked, so I tried picking up a guitar. And while that totally opened my eyes to a whole new world of music, no one cared that I could play it, and no one cared when I tried piano either, or the bass. I was a whole band that worked alone. So I studied harder. I was always good at math and science and lit, so I worked extra hard. I got recognitions, stickers, diplomas, but really what did I get? A pat on the back from my dad. A smile from my mom. What did Bridgette get when she did a double flip in the air? A fucking dinner party at home.

 

No matter what I did, or what I said, or how hard I studied, or talents I picked up, or how I fixed my hair, she always just seemed to be the better one.

 

The only one that seemed to recognize what I did was my dad. While my mom would buy Bridgette a new laptop, take her out shopping for new training clothes, or get their hair done together, my dad would try and get off early from work and walk me to that ice cream store down town.

 

So one day, the day Bridgette and I turned sixteen, I decided to just stop. I wasn’t Bridgette, and I would never be Bridgette, and I just got over wanting to be better than Bridgette. I didn’t care anymore that she got more than me, or more people found her hotter than me. We were twins. We were bound to be compared. I called my best friend Mason on the phone, and asked him to go grab his bike and take me downtown to the city. I brought along my wallet containing my savings from the past year. We roamed around Target, picking up black hair dye, barbershop scissors, and new clothes. I still love Mason for that day, for acting like my girl best friend even when he was a guy and hated shopping. When we got back to my house, and my mom was hanging up decorations of Bridgette’s favorite flower, Lillies, for our fourteenth (previously fifteenth)*** birthday party, we locked ourselves in my bathroom. I wet my hair and sat on a chair, instructing Mason how to cut it perfectly. I handed him the scissors without hesitation, I really trusted the guy with my life.

            “You’re not scared I’ll cut you?” He joked.

            “Cut me and I’ll dye your face black.” I snapped.

            “Remind me not to mess with you when you have a new pack of hair dye…” Mason muttered, shaking his head.

A bunch of snips and snaps later, the long brown hair that used to reach my waist, sat in heaps on the floor, and now my hair was chopped off, layered right below my ear.

            “Perfect, Mase.” I breathed. Then I washed my hair again, slopped on the hair dye on each layer, and kept it wrapped up in a plastic cap that came in the box. After half an hour, I washed off the goop and tried my hair with a towel. When I emerged from the bathroom, Mason was half asleep on the bed.

            “Mason!” I yelled.

            “Hmm?”

Then his green eyes went white and he sat up straight.

            “Skye, is that…”

            “Yes it’s me, dumb ass.” I rolled my eyes, smirking. I sat with him on the bed.

            “You look…whoa.”

            “Why so speechless?” I asked him.

Mason laughed nervously, why was he acting funny? “I don’t know, Whitman.”

            “Do you like this?” I asked Mason, running a hand through my newly dyed black hair, cropped at the neck, hair as we sat on the edge of my bed after our tiring ordeal. “This…new me?”

            “It’s not a new you.” Mason said, smiling at me with his perfectly aligned teeth from his braces last year. “It’s the real you, finally out of that shell you were in.”

            “Shell?” I laughed, throwing my head back. It was new, not having all the long hair weigh me down.

            “Yeah, the shell! You know, the shell of being ‘Bridgette’s twin’.” Mason explained. “I like it.”

I smiled at him, his dark green eyes and his chestnut hair. And I didn’t expect it, and it wasn’t weird or anything, just totally surprising, when Mason pressed his lips against my cheek. I raised an eyebrow at him afterwards and he just shrugged his shoulders. We laughed about it and I attacked him with all the pillows I could find, and he shook his head laughing off with me. And I still remember him saying, “I couldn’t help it. You’re beautiful now that you’re being just Skye.”

 

When I stepped out of my room in the new charcoal gray, bodice-styled dress I had planned to wear that evening, the party was already in full swing. Guests flocked around my house, and all the varsity teams were dressed up for Bridgette. I spotted my friends hogging the drinks at the bar, and more of Bridgette’s girl friends flirting with them.

            “Mase, I can’t do this.” I murmured, shrinking back into the hallway of my bedroom.

            “C’mon Skye, it’s not like you turned green over night.” Mason said, and his encouragement was enough. I stepped out into the party.

            “Who is _that?_ ” I heard Kyle, one of the football players say not-so-softly as I passed.

“Yo Staline!” David from the lacrosse team called over at Mason, “introduce us to this new chick, will you?”

            “Oh please, Dave,” Mason replied, smirking, “You know Skye.”

I turned to look at David. He was cute, with dark brown hair and a splatter of freckles on his face. I had never really spoken to him before, only an occasional hello when he came over to visit my sister.

            “S-Skye?” David stammered, squinting at my face awkwardly like I was some kind of exotic cat.

            “Hi David.” I said sheepishly, smiling at him.

            “Er… Happy birthday. I—um, I got you something.” David tried handing me a wrapped box until Mason cut in, slinging his arm over my shoulder protectively.

            “Sorry bro,” he said, “she’s not interested in guys that only notice her after a brand new hair cut.”

I blushed, and slid a hand around Mason’s waist, thankful for him being around. Bridgette popped up out of nowhere and tapped me on the shoulder.

            “Excuse me, but this is a private party and you’re not—”

I spun around.

            “Hey.” I said.

            “SKYE?” Bridgette squeaked, her eyes popping and jaw dropping. “You’re—you’re—oh my god!”

I laughed, as my sister reached over and played with my newly cut and darkened hair. She touched my face then my dress then went back to messing my hair around.

            “You look so—whoa!” she squealed.

            “Thanks, Bridge.” I laughed, “Have you seen mom and dad? I think I have to show them.”

            “Oh my God… good luck with that.”

            “Thanks.”

After searching for my parents, Mason finally spotted them off to a corner, chatting with some other parents from the school. The music was loud and the lights were dimmed so it was pretty hard to catch their attention. I dragged Mason and trotted up to the two of them.

            “Mom!” I called through the crowds of people. “Dad!”

            “It’s no use!” Mason shouted to me, “They won’t hear you!”

I pulled him along and finally found them. My dad turned around first.

When I stopped my tracks, the music did too. Then my mom.

            “My baby girl!” My dad smiled, raising his arms to me as he nodded at my new look.

 

My mom?

 

Yeah, she screamed. She screamed her head off.

 

Now, those curls, Bridgette’s curls, her princess-y, shoulder length curls, still degraded me, and I had the urge to chop my hair off again. And here Bridgette was about to see how she was doing better than me already, in terms of friends.

 

The place seemed extremely still as I gaped up at Castiel, who was towering over me.

            “Uh…” was all that escaped my mouth. The tension in the room rose by a hundred fold.

            “Cas, what a pleasant surprise.” Lysander said calmly, a soft smile spread on his lips as he eyed his friend.

            “Pleasant? Pleasant? Really?” Castiel sputtered, looking angrily around the room, the papers on the floor, the Shakespeare copies, the vest. He stared me down, and I fought the urge to look away. My cheeks turned red, feeling his anger kick me in the gut. Then he turned back to Lysander. “God damn it Lys, do you know what time it is?”

            “Half past eight, am I right?”

            “Yes, it’s fucking _half past eight._ You were supposed to pick me up an two hours ago, that’s why I didn’t bring my god damn car!”

            “Oh. Shit.” It was the first time I heard Lysander curse. “I’m sorry Cas, it totally slipped my mind—“

            “Of course it slipped your mind, you’re here with _her_.” Castiel pointed an accusatory finger at me. My heart was beating rapidly. I didn’t like where this was going. No. No, I wouldn’t go and give in again. Lys hated that. I closed my eyes.

            “Cas, don’t blame her. It was—”

            “I should go home…” a soft voice said from outside my room.

            “What the fuck—” Castiel started, half turning to face the source. “What the _hell_ are you doing here Bristol?”

Nathaniel was standing there, wide-eyed and awkward.

            “Skye!” Bridgette suddenly popped up at my door with bugged eyes. Curls bouncing behind her. She looked at Castiel then Lysander then back to me. “I didn’t know who he was—he said he knew Lysander, so I asked him how, then kind of just forced himself into—”

            “Who _are_ you?” Castiel asked Bridgette, annoyance thick in his tone.

            “Bridgette.” Lysander, Nathaniel and I answered at the same time, sighing.

The fact that we all knew who Bridgette was and he didn’t seemed to piss Castiel off and he groaned in frustration.

            “God, if I knew I would be crashing some kind of soiree here, I wouldn’t have come in the first place.” He snorted. “But really Lys, you could’ve given me a heads up and saved me an hour walking in the cold.”

            “Castiel, I’m really sorry. I just got carried away—”

            “Bridgette, you told me your sister wasn’t home.” Nathaniel frowned, looking straight at me. “Skye, I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

            “What’s this about?” I asked. “Bridge, why didn’t you tell Nate I was home?”

“I—um,” Bridgette stammered and blushed. What was up with her?

            “I—er, well I printed new sheets for us to review on Thursday—” Nathaniel started.

            “Oh look, we have a loverboy in the room.” Castiel commented sarcastically, waving his hand towards Nathaniel.

            “Shut your mouth, Statham.” Nathaniel hissed, turning red in the face. He walked right past Castiel, up to me and handed me a small stack of papers, neatly held together by a red paperclip.

            “Now’s really not the time, Nate.” I sighed, frazzled with all the tension going on, but I took the papers anyway. I honestly just wanted to push everyone out of my room and bury myself under all my blankets.

            “Well, I can see that now.” Nathaniel said apologetically. “I’ll be heading home. I hope I helped, Bridgette.”

            “You did!” Bridgette squeaked after him. “I’ll walk you out.”

            “No, no, it’s fine—“ Nathaniel shook his head.

            “Come on, it’s not that far.” Bridgette insisted, and I caught a sight of what she was wearing. My jaw dropped slightly. She was in a skimpy black top and daisy dukes. What the hell Bridge?

I was so concentrated on the two of them that I barely noticed Castiel and Lysander arguing again.

            “—really? Was a text so hard to send to tell me to go call a cab, Lys?”

            “I really have no explanation for you other than it completely slipped my mind.”

            “Maybe it wouldn’t have slipped your mind, like every _other_ time you picked me up if—”

“It’s not Lysander’s fault.” I said softly, so softly that I thought Castiel wouldn’t hear, but he did.  He stopped. Here we go again. I was giving into what Castiel wanted, fighting him _again._

“Stay out of it.” Castiel said, though I could see a spark light up in his eyes as he turned to me. I knew what that meant. He didn’t really want to argue with Lysander. He had been waiting to argue with me. And here I was, taking the punches again.

“No, Castiel, I won’t just _stay out of it._ You come here, bursting into my house, my room, to go ahead and shout at your best friend for something he didn’t do?”

“Don’t go around poking your nose into things like this, Whitman. I wasn’t talking to you, and what, you’re trying to tell me _not_ to be mad? Try waiting out in the damn cold waiting for a car that’s _not_ going to come! Tell me who still feels so great about it!”

“I’m not saying that you should feel fine that he forgot, but he’s a person, he _forgets._ What else do you want from him when all he can give is an apology?”

“You know, he never would have forgotten if he wasn’t _here_ doing _God knows what_ with you!”

“We weren’t doing anything!” I shouted back. I hated shouting, because I knew it would lead to tears. I felt the telltale prickle at the corner of my eyes.

“So he was here wasting his sweet time while letting me—”

“He was _tutoring_ me!”

“T-Tutoring?” Castiel was full of anger, his gray eyes steely and silver instead. “Lys never told me—”

            “Cas!” Lysander raised his voice suddenly, reminding me that he was still in the room. “I’m _sorry_. Why are we fighting over this? We never fight over anything like this!”

            “You’ve been _lying_ to me?” Castiel looked at Lysander. “For what? For her?”

            “I never lied about anything, Cas.” Lysander said. “I guess I just never mentioned that I’ve been tutoring Skye for a few weeks now.”

            “It never crossed your mind to even tell your best friend what you’ve been doing for _weeks_?”

            “Cas, ugh, can we just—”

            “I’ll be in your car.”

Castiel seemed to have had enough, and so did I. Lysander sighed and threw him the keys. He stormed out of my room, out the house, to Lys’s Camaro. Finally when he was gone, and it was just Lysander and I, I sank down to my knees. I blinked, letting thick tears run down my cheeks.

            “How do you deal with that everyday?” I asked, still trying to keep control of my voice.

            “I don’t.” Lysander said.

            “I’m sorry.” I whispered, burying my face in my hands. “I know you guys never fight a-and—and now, it’s my fault that you did and—“

            “Don’t worry about it.” Lysander cooed. He sat down beside me but didn’t make a move to touch me. He was right to think not to. I didn’t dare look up. One look at his face would have sent me sobbing. “You know Castiel, he can be extremely hotheaded, and now you just saw how bad it can get. In fact, once, I made him so mad, he flipped over his dining table. It snapped in half.”

I laughed half-heartedly through my tears. I hated crying, but everything pent up inside me, Castiel, Bridgette, Amber, my parents, Mason, seemed to be escaping my system through tears. And I hated how the night was just going so well.

            “He hates me.” I said. “I don’t do anything, but he _hates_ me.”

            “Cas doesn’t—”

            “Don’t deny it, Lys.” I said, smiling at him bitterly. “You know he does. Because I remind him of someone, remember?”

Lysander sighed, nodding.

            “Castiel just… He really takes time to understand. He shuts off when someone comes along that could look like a threat. It might sound hard to believe, and Castiel wouldn’t admit it, but he is protective of me just as I am to him. He already lost a friend over a girl, and in my opinion, he can’t bear that happening again. I guess you could say, he’s a little bit traumatized.”

I sighed, curling up into a ball against Lysander’s shoulder. He was undeniably comfortable and warm, I felt that just leaning against him, though his appearance seemed cold.

            “You should go, Lys.” I said, wiping my face. “Castiel’s probably dying to talk to you in the car.”

            “Oh, he definitely is.” Lysander said, nodding. “You know him so well already.”

            “All these fights can’t be for nothing.” I said, shrugging. Lysander smiled, detached himself from me then gathered his things.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He said, sliding his arms into his vest then into his coat.

I dropped my shoulders in response. With that, Lysander left.

 

Once he did, I broke into another round of tears. Why was this happening to me? Why me? Castiel and I hit it off pretty well when I met him, but now, without me doing anything, he just hated me. He picked fights with me over things I had no control of, and somehow found a way to make it my fault. Whether it was getting caught by Nathaniel when he took the keys, or cutting classes, he always said something to pinpoint me to it. I didn’t ask for this. I wanted to start over here in this small town, make more friends than I did before, avoid the unwanted attention I got, and escape everything that happened back home. All of that, I miserably failed. I wanted to get to the bottom of all this, but I couldn’t do that without being nosy, so I decided to just give it time.

 

One day, it’ll be civil between us, I assured myself. It had to be. He couldn’t keep this up forever, right?

 

When I woke up the next day, I was not excited. I examined myself in the mirror

 

The first thing I did was walk into the Student’s Council Room and plop down on a chair. Nathaniel wasn’t here, but Melody was. She was dressed in her usual outfit but had her hair in a tight bun on top of her head.

            “Good morning, Skylar.” She said to me shyly.

            “Morning Mel,” I replied, still half-asleep.

            “Are you okay? You don’t look so hot.”

_Gee thanks._

            “I’m fine, thanks. Is Nathaniel here?”

            “Um—” Melody looked around then shook her head. “Are you sure? Is it club problems? That happens a lot, especially when you join basketball. Most students don’t like the one’s in their team, but you have the option to change to gardening club like your sister I mean—”

            “Melody?” I stopped her, raising my eyebrow. “Nathaniel?”

            “Oh, right, he’s not here yet. Are you going to wait for him to arrive?”

            “Probably yeah,” I answered. Melody nodded, though she didn’t seem to keen about the idea of me waiting for Nate and ending up along with him in this room. Time passed quickly, and before I knew it, it was class time. I still didn’t rise from my chair though, and Melody looked anxious to get to class. Where was Nate anyway?

            “I, um…” Melody nervously trailed off.

            “I’ll wait here, it’s fine Mel.” I said, smiling. She looked at me with sad, pleading eyes like she was trying to tell me something, but nodded instead.

            “I’ll see you around Skye.”

I smiled and waved her off. My eyes were heavy though and puffy from crying, again. My shoulders sagged and were aching. This was _so_ not my day. I leaned against the table and let myself drift off, giving in to the tiredness I felt.

 

A lightweight landed on my shoulder, making me jump right up.

            “I’m not late!” I yelped.

            “S-Skye! It’s just me!” A boyish voice said, I squinted and tried rubbing my eyes, which were blurry from sleep.

            “Nate?” I croaked. My throat was dry and sandy. “You’re…late.”

            “I was coming down with a cold so I decided to skip the morning. What are you doing here? And how are you feeling? From yesterday, I mean.”

I blinked my eyes and focused on Nathaniel. He wore a dark blue knit sweater that looked good with his khaki pants, though I would’ve worn jeans with them instead. Also, I noticed his nose was a little red.

            “I’m alright, I guess.” I said, shrugging.

            “Avoiding Castiel?” Nathaniel prompted, pulling his sweater off over his head. He shook his golden hair out of his face. I noticed a few buttons of his shirt came undone, and I couldn’t help but notice his even tan. Was it even a tan or was he really that complexion?

            “You can tell?” I said, finally pulling my eyes away from his chest.

 

It made me think back to the day I stopped a fight between Castiel and Nathaniel over _another_ slip, an absentee one this time, and Nathaniel’s shirt pretty much popping itself open. Seriously, if the guy was going to get into all these fights, he _needed_ to stop with thet buttons. It ended pretty crazy, with me running after Castiel since Lys was absent that day and trying to talk him out of pretty much wrecking everything in his sight. That was a pretty good day, considering that earlier in the morning Castiel mocked me for having my picture posted everywhere by Queen Bitch Amber.

 

            “I was there, remember? Sort of?” Nathaniel smiled at me sympathetically. “I don’t understand you two, really.”

            “Who? Me or Castiel?”

            “Both of you.” Nathaniel said. “You and Lysander get along fine, but you and Cas… I don’t get why you hang out with him, Skye. You can do so much better.”

            “He’s not my boyfriend, Nate.” I said, “And need I remind you, you aren’t either.”

Nathaniel laughed and shook his head, casting his eyes downward. I noticed he got a little pink in the cheeks. He probably didn’t know, but I noticed a lot of little things.

            “That, I am not.” He said, “But I am looking out for you. And really…Castiel isn’t really the crowd anyone wants to be associated with. He’s a sad, morose guy that has issues he needs to deal with and—”

            “Nate, please, I don’t need a lecture on who my friends are. Castiel and I may not get along, but I’m here for him, and he’s pretty much there too and I don’t mind keeping it that way.”

            “I know, Skye,” Nathaniel sighed, casting his eyes towards the floor again. “I’m just…I don’t want to see you get hurt. You might not know it, but a lot of people at school care about you.”

I snickered, and shook my head.

            “Like who? Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Bridgette?”

            “I’m sure,” Nathaniel said. “Like…me. I care, Skye. I saw you about to cry yesterday, I see that face on Amber all the time, though when hers are just tears for attention, I could tell yours were because of him.”

I didn’t know what to say. I clutched the table and looked away from Nate, unable to look at him without tearing up.

            “You don’t…like him, do you?” Nathaniel asked cautiously. “Castiel?”

A laugh escaped my throat, and suddenly I didn’t feel like crying at all anymore.

            “No, Nate,” I laughed. “I don’t like Cas. Why would you think that?”

            “I’m just asking.” Nathaniel said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. A small smile spread on his lips, and that made me smile even wider at what he said. “I just don’t usually see girls cry over guys they don’t like, like that.”

            “Well you know Castiel.” I said, “He’s a handful.”

            “What about Lysander?” Nathaniel pressed. “You don’t like him, do you?”

            “No!” The answer was automatic, I didn’t even have to think about it. “No, gosh, don’t even. Lys and I…no.”

            “Just checking again!” Nathaniel said, smiling. I shook my head, then unexpectedly, I felt fingers comb away my fringe and soft lips press against my forehead. My eyes were wide with shock as we came in contact, and I was staring straight at Nathaniel’s tanned chest and his little pens were at the corner of my eye. “Take care of yourself, Skye.”

I nodded as the door opened and closed.

 

What was _that_?


	6. Five: Different Kind of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I'm a day late in updating! But guess what, it's my last test tomorrow and then SUMMER! WOOOOHOOO! That's right. Summer. Time to party and chill and write and travel and do all the things I couldn't do with school in the way. Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I'm really appreciating the support! Gahh you guys make this whole writing thing a lot funner than normal! PM me for questions and keep reviewing!
> 
> BEFORE YOU START READING THIS CHAPTER, I have to say first that this is like a Part 1, of what's going on. I just didn't want this to get too lengthy (which it is! Longest chapter yet hah) Part 2 coming up soon! Okay you guys enjoy! - lostconcoctions
> 
> PS: If any of you are into Ace Attorney, I was the biggest fan back in the sixth grade, and I definitely think we should be friends because I've reconnected my love for it.

In California, dyeing my hair brought unimaginable changes when I got back to school the Monday after my party. People started to look at me different, talk to me, be nicer to me, though it only made me even more closed off from getting close to people. Though I met more people, or attended more parties, I tried to stay close with my circle of friends.

Another thing that changed was my relationship with my mom. It was never the greatest, since we never saw eye to eye the way Bridgette and her did, but suddenly cutting my hair and dying it black seemed to be a symbol of defiance to her, and she didn't like that. Everything I said or did suddenly seemed the complete opposite of what she wanted me to do. Then, there was my boyfriend back then.

I met Riley at a club. He was older than me and was a regular, while I was inside because of thick make up and a fake ID. Mason and I enjoyed these little escapades, though we always did them in secret. It was even harder to keep it that way since I was starting to be invited to parties, and know more people, not just Bridgette. We didn't necessarily like clubbing or anything like that, we just liked the thrill of being somewhere we shouldn't be.

Mason had disappeared onto the dance floor while I lingered by the bar, not even touching an ounce of alcohol when Riley approached me. He sized me up while I did the same to him. He was much taller than me, even in my heels, had his ears pierced, platinum blond hair with some tattoos scattered around his arms and Veritas across his chest. He wore slim jeans, boat shoes, a dark collared shirt and a brown jacket on top. His style seemed out of place in the club, but the look on his face told me he wasn't.

"I have to say, you're too cute to smoke, missy." He said, eyeing me.

"It's Skylar." I said, exhaling smoke downwards as I introduced myself. I never really smoked; it was only when I was with Riley that I got into it. I only had a cigarette that night to look like I belonged. "I'm here with someone, and I'm old enough to know what to do."

Though my exterior stayed cool, my heart was racing in my chest. Where was Mason? Oh God, oh God, oh God. This had never happened to me before. I mean sure, guys would try to dance with me and pick me up, but here someone was actually trying to talk to me.

"Riley." He said, and it sounded like a growl in his throat, "And I think you should ditch this 'someone'."

"Now why would I do that?"

"Because," Riley said, his icy blue eyes cooling my whole system, "if I was with you, I wouldn't let you out of my sight. You don't need to have a good eye to know when you see something pretty."

"So why don't you go look for something pretty to stare at?" I countered.

"Already looking at her."

Riley knew I was underage, turns out he knew from the moment he saw me, but he seized the opportunity anyway. It wasn't like he was that old. He just turned 21 and I was already halfway being sixteen. He got my number and left, then called me when I got home. I didn't answer the first time, but he didn't give up. On the third day, I finally decided to pick up the phone since this guy was so damn persistent. We talked and he made me laugh harder than I did in days. And he called every night, and even when I would turn him down to go out with him, he wouldn't give up. Then I finally said yes to a first date, then a second, then a third.

It was different with Riley. I fell in love like how a tidal wave hits sand. All by surprise, washing out my whole being. He drove a red Mustang, and would pick me up at night to go to places in San Diego I had never even heard of, or thought existed. He would climb my roof and bring his Jack Daniel's, watched the stars with me when I couldn't sleep. I met new friends, discovered new music, tried new things, and found myself, all of this with Riley. I felt like before I had met him, I was just someone lost and wandering.

Word about Riley started to spread. The jocks finally quit pestering me about going out with them, girls stopped trying to set me up, and even Georgina, the queen bitch of the school, couldn't tease me about my boyfriend because no one could find something wrong about him.

He smoked? That's awesome, they would say. He had tattoos? That's badass. He's in a band? He's someone you had to know. He's an older guy? You don't mess with him.

When I finally introduced him to my parents, even my dad wasn't so sure about the idea. He figured that it was just a phase though, saying I wasn't really in love, but when I tried convincing him, he finally gave me a chance to let Riley prove himself. My mom was solid as a rock. She didn't like him. She wouldn't budge. She thought he was everything wrong and immoral.

Tattoos violate your body as a temple of God, she said.

Tattoos are a form of expression that you can't silence, he said.

Music is a waste of time that gets you nowhere in life, she said.

Music is a way of life. Music saves lives, he said.

There was an endless list of things she didn't like about Riley and she grounded me from seeing him again. That didn't stop us though. Riley and I found ways to see each other, either late at night or sometimes at school, or when I'd be at a friend's house doing homework, we'd be out eating burgers at the diner. Birthday party? We were at the beach. Any excuse, you name it, we've used it. I loved him so much. Riley changed me, and I knew I changed him somehow too. Though after him, I changed myself, and I wasn't sure how to ever go back.

My mom wasn't here now, but a part of me wished she was. I wanted her to see what a different person I am, how I knew how to handle and take care of myself without being programmed to do what she wanted.

But then she would've said something bad about my friends, and I wouldn't be able to take any more of that. She can pretend to be the "cool" mom, but I know she'll never go down without a word.

A little over a week passed, I tried my best to avoid both Castiel and Nathaniel, my "friends"—definitely my mom would have some comments on them; I already heard her voice telling me that boys shouldn't have red hair, and wow I should definitely try and be more like Nathaniel—Castiel, I was used to leaving alone for a day, maybe two, but this long was different. I almost felt…Lonely? I would never have admitted that out loud, but I did. Okay, I wouldn't go as far as saying I missed Castiel, but I missed the company. But it was probably just because less of him meant a lot less Lysander too, so that was understandable. Nathaniel though, while I tried my best to distance myself, it seemed like he doubled his efforts to see me. He didn't pull anything again like he did in the Students Council Room, but he'd be persistent in asking when else I would need more tutoring, or if I wanted to hang out after class. I didn't actually need any of it; my grades were doing just fine, more than fine, but Nathaniel seemed adamant about helping me out anyway, so I just let him.

As I walked into Sweet Amoris for the last weekday, my mind already wandering to Mason—he called every few days to tell me what was going on, and he promised he would today—and I was excited just as I normally was. I missed him, and all I really wanted right now was to be lying on my stomach on his makeshift couch + bed, playing Halo, while he sat on the floor, burying bullets into my player's torso as I did to his skull, I ducked straight down the hall, down the stairwell, to my locker. Barely anyone was in school yet, and I tried to keep a low profile this week, going as far as pulling my hood over my head as I roamed the halls. Bridgette though, seemed not so good at taking the hint.

"Skye! Wait up!" she huffed behind me, catching up to me as I deposited books into my locker.

I groaned, but couldn't blame her. I should've given her a heads up on what happened with Nate, but I couldn't bring myself to even talk about it. It probably didn't mean anything anyway, so what was the point in bringing something that was pretty much nothing into a conversation?

"Keep your voice down." I said, pulling my gray Padres hoodie off over my head and stuffing it into my locker.

"What's wrong?" Bridgette whispered. She wore a lilac dress today, something our mom bought her on one of their many shopping trips, while I took with me my dad's hoodie. We both loved watching the Padres games back in San Diego, and I remember borrowing it from him one day. He forgot to get it back before he left us, so I took it with me to Wesgrove.

"Nothing," I said. It wasn't lying. Something just wasn't…right. "I'm just not feeling so good today. Head hurts."

"Oh God Skye, please don't tell me you're high." Bridgette frowned.

""No!" I hissed. "What the hell, Bridgette?"

"Don't lie to me!" Bridgette rolled my eyes, exasperated, "I know you did it!"

"You just heard that from your friends, didn't you? Who told you, huh? Danny? Kyle? Which one?" I was starting to get pissed off. Bridgette never talked to me about anything like this, and now she decides to suddenly start caring?

"Everyone!" Bridgette yelled. "You never tell me anything and you expect me to always defend you, or lie to my friends and cover for you, but I never know the truth!" Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence and I felt a pain in my chest. It was true, I didn't tell my sister much. But that was only because Bridgette never seemed to mind what I did.

"You never asked." I replied coolly. "You don't ask me, you don't act like you care, you just listen to rumors and you go with them, you—"

"I'm your sister, Skye!" Bridgette threw her hands in the air, eyes big, curls bouncing with her movements, "I care. I always care. You—"

"Exactly, you're my sister and you assume all these things! That's your problem, you always judge and assume and you listen way too much to what other people say!"

"Maybe if you trusted me a bit more then I'd understand you! If you told me anything yourself then I wouldn't have to listen to other people! Because you know what Skye, one day, no one's going to believe anything you say because it's not like you tell the truth to anyone anyway!"

"Hey guys…!"

Oh no.

I didn't even notice the door burst open.

When my head snapped to the side to see who it was, Nathaniel was already making his way downstairs, looking blue in the face.

"Morning Nate." Bridgette said, still red from confronting me, breathing heavily.

"Hey there, Bridgette…" Nathaniel sounded out of breath. "Skye, you too."

"Hi." I replied, looking at his limp form as he staggered down the stairs.

"Why are you…sweating?" Bridgette asked him.

"Oh? Me? Um, well, actually I just wanted to ask. You didn't see test papers anywhere did you?"

"T-Test papers?" Bridgette stammered. "They give those out already?"

"No!" Nathaniel gushed. "That's why I have to find them. They're gone, stolen. The keys are missing too."

"Holy crap…" I muttered, my mind suddenly exploding with thoughts of Amber. I kind of just pinpointed her because there was definitely something wrong with that girl.

"Who could've done it?" Bridge asked both Nate and I.

"I don't know, but if you two try and find out, it would be a massive help."

Then Nathaniel spun on his heel and exited the stairwell.

"Oh thank God," I sighed in relief.

"What? Why?" Bridgette asked, looking at me suspiciously.

"I thought he would come over and… Oh nothing." I shook my head nervously, recalling how he kissed my forehead a couple of days ago. I shuddered at the thought. But then maybe I was wrong. Maybe Nathaniel was just touchy. Or maybe he was just lonely, or neglected, or sad, or was just experimenting—I don't know. I didn't want to think about it. I wanted to confront him so bad.

I jogged up the stairs and into the hallway. It was still full; no one really followed the bell here, and students were chatting around by the lockers. I meant to just go and drink from the water fountain, when I ran into Lysander.

"Skye," he breathed, smiling at me with a distant look in his colorful eyes.

"Hey Lys," I smiled back, doing my best not to stare again. I felt like embracing him and squeezing the life out of him, but I stopped myself. He wasn't the type, or at least, not yet. Not being around him for a while actually made me feel so alone. Instead of a hug though, Lysander reached out and offered his hand to me, pulling me beside him and walking around the halls.

"Where are we going?" I asked him, matching his steps as he held me by the hip. He was in a white dress shirt today, with a navy blue button down vest that matched his slacks, and a royal blue ascot to top it off. His boots were his regular black ones, though they looked extra worn-out today. His outfit made me feel sloppy and underdressed. Usually, I looked better I swear.

"I'm walking you to class."

"I have Literature and the room's the other way." I said, frowning.

"Oh right, I forgot to mention that I already gave in our assignment, and our excuse slip."

Assignment? Excuse slip? What wait? Class hasn't even started.

"Oh God—" I gasped, "The assignment. Lys, I am so sorry. I forgot it was due, and I swear I just forgot and—"

"Don't worry about it," Lysander cut me off, "like you said, we're human. We forget."

"I'll make it up to you." I promised. "The next assignment's all mine. That is, if you're still willing to be my partner."

"I think it's already a given that you are my literature partner, seeing we have all those classes together."

I blushed; suddenly shy. Lysander and I always worked together, seeing that we both have a love for literature and words. This was the first time I let him down. The halls had started to clear and suddenly we were alone.

"Where are we going?" I asked him.

"You'll see."

My first guess was the roof, where Castiel had taken me on my first day. I shuddered, just thinking of the fight I had gotten into with him. I hadn't been up there since then, and I wondered if Lysander would make it better for me. Lysander brought me to the same door that lead to the roof, and unlocked it with his own duplicate key, leading me up the narrow staircase, though instead of going straight up, he took a sudden right into a dark hallway that could barely fit two people. He held my hand as I walked behind him until he finally pushed a door open.

Sunlight hit me right in the eyes, making me raise a hand up to my face. I let myself adjust for a few seconds before scanning the surroundings. It looked like a small, secluded garden—sort of. Potted plants, different types of flowers, shrubs, decorated the area, and I had no idea where we were. There was a ledge that acted as a balcony, and a ladder that hung over it towards the ground floor. I guessed that we were somewhere at the back of the school, since I couldn't see much but some concrete a bit far off, which I guessed was the courtyard.

"Lys…where are we?" I asked, still new to this place.

"No one knows about this," Lysander said instead of answering me, "I go here for my thoughts, and my thoughts alone. Castiel and I both share the rooftop though. It's become a kind of special place for us. Here though, I write songs without the bothering cigarette smoke or the sound of cars down below."

"Lys," I chuckled, squeezing his hand. For someone who was pretty efficient at the guitar, his fingertips were soft like a child's. "You still haven't told me. Where are we?"

"Oh, hmm, apologies. This is actually the fire exit, as you can see the ladder there. But there aren't many fires in a school, so it's come to be a secret place for me. And well, now you too if you want to make it."

"You put all these plants here?" I asked, pulling Lysander along as I ran my fingers through the petals of the flowers; sunflowers, carnations, lilies, daisies, pansies.

"No, I suspect it was Jade, but he doesn't come around regularly. I do water them though."

"Am I the first person you've brought here?" I asked.

"Yes, Skylar. You ask a lot of questions."

"You made a friend out of a curious person, while you say so little."

"It's just the way I am, and there's nothing extraordinary to know." Lysander smiled. He leaned his back against the ledge and turned to me.

"I think you're pretty extraordinary." I raised my shoulders, looking off over the ledge.

His silver hair whipped around in the breeze, while it sent goose bumps down my arms. Really shouldn't have left that hoodie in my locker. Lysander took his coat off and draped it over my shoulders. I slid my arms into the sleeves. Huh, Lysander was actually pretty built, judging from the size of the sleeves and how they fit his arms perfectly.

"What do you do here, Lys?" I asked out of curiosity again.

"I mainly write. Songs, poems, or practice vocal stuff."

"Can I read something you wrote?" I asked timidly. "Unless you don't—"

"No, it's fine. Though this is private stuff." Lysander cut me off, pulling out a small leather-bound notebook from his pocket. He flipped to the last page he wrote on and handed it to me, and I took it shyly though my eyes were just as curious.

On cold nights I'm left wondering

How you could've been

I want to reach into your mind

Though to pry feels like a sin

Your eyes are like deep waters

With the way they seem so dark

I find they pull me slowly

With nothing but a spark

I want you to show me

Your mind though it gets dim

So that I can finally stop and see

Will I sink or will I swim

But

Then a bunch of words were scribbled out until they undecipherable. I read it more times than I should, hanging onto his words. I wondered who it was about. A girl maybe? A girl I knew? Or was it someone distant, someone only Lys did. Then again, possibly it wasn't anyone at all.

"That…That's beautiful." I breathed, my eyes scanning the words once more. "Lys, you're really good."

"It's not finished." Lysander said, taking the notebook as I returned it to him. "I've been meaning to but I seem to be at a loss for words whenever I think about it."

"Well I can't wait to see the finished product." I winked my awkward wink. I managed to make Lysander laugh for a while.

"Do you write?" He asked me, pocketing the notebook.

"Oh, nothing like poetry, and nothing compared to yours. I used to write stories though."

"Used to? Why did you stop?"

I twisted my lip and bit at it, thinking about my mom.

"Well, my mom never liked it when I wrote. She thought it was a waste of time since I couldn't make a living out of it. Barely anyone makes money writing books unless you were amazing. She thinks the same with music."

"But she bought you the guitar."

"That was my dad." I said, sighing. "I miss him."

Lysander nodded in understanding. We were silent for a while. It was comfortable, but it felt even better when we were talking.

"Why did you bring me here? I mean, me. Why me?" I asked Lysander shyly.

"Because you're different." Lysander said, honesty evident in his voice and his gaze, and I could already tell he was about to launch into a whole explanation by how he hesitated. "You're interesting, and eccentric, and I've never come across someone like you. Though we've spent a reasonable amount of time together, I feel like I haven't even scratched the surface of getting to know you. But I want to, and I will, if you let me. First step, show you something about me and here it is."

I was speechless that he even found me remotely different, or that I stood out to him. I was nothing special, even I knew that, but here Lysander was saying otherwise, like he saw something that I didn't. I was weird, I was into weird things, I was outspoken, I thought differently, I was embarrassing. I was almost tempted to ask if he was talking about my sister. Bridgette was special. Bridgette was perfect. Bridgette was amazing. That's all I ever knew, but I knew that was just my mind not believing anything great anyone could say about me. It wasn't Lysander's fault or anything that I thought like that, I was just so used to it.

"Well," I said finally, clearing my throat, "it's a paradox, if you know what I mean. To get to know someone, you have to give yourself too. To take, you have to give."

"Why do I feel like I've read an essay about that?" Lysander smirked. "An essay whose title seems to be escaping my mind right now, but I'll definitely be incessantly looking it up later to remember."

"'Love In Other Words', Harper Lee." I noted.

"Oh you think this is 'love'?" Lysander teased, and it was a new side of him I've never seen.

"Admit it, Lys, you totally love me." I teased him back. "You loooove me."

"You're horrible." Lysander rolled his eyes, brushing his knuckles under his chin like he always did. "You can't love a person you don't know very well."

"What about love at first sight?"

"I think you're going to have to walk by again, because I don't feel it."

We both broke into a peal of laughter.

"Alright, alright, enough of that aside." Lysander said, catching his breath. "I feel like I haven't seen you in a year. What's going on?"

"It's a week." I said nonchalantly, acting like it didn't matter much to me that I haven't seen him.

"It's not because of what happened with Castiel, is it? He does miss you, you know."

"Ha! Funny. You're funny, Lys."

"I'm serious! He won't say it, but you know there's something off. You've become a permanent presence between us."

"You don't know that."

"I know him better than you think." Lysander said.

"It's not all about Castiel. It's about me too, you know. I don't like fighting all the time. It wears me out."

"I think you two just need to talk."

"Yeah, probably." I agreed, though inside I knew I dreaded even looking at Castiel. "Nate's in big trouble, have you heard?"

"Yes, Peggy's been ambushing everyone over it." Lysander said, sighing. "Do you know anything?"

"No, but I've been looking for the keys to the teacher's lounge since—"

"Oh you mean these keys?" Lysander asked, pulling out another set from his back pocket. He jingled them in front of my eyes.

"How many do you have?" I asked, wide eyed.

"Just the two. You look disturbed, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I shook my head. "It's just—could someone else have gotten a hold of those? Because paper's they were—"

"Stolen, I know. And just to save you the trouble of wondering, no I did not steal the papers, and yes, possibly someone else had a hold of these keys. I found them by the water fountain, just seconds before I found you."

"I wasn't going to say you stole them, Lys." I laughed, still nervous. I didn't know why, but this investigation really had my blood pumping. I could never turn down a mystery. "I was going to tell you to keep your eyes open."

"They're wide open." Lysander said, then actually widened his eyes for me too see. I laughed again, but this time my laughter subsided and ended with me just staring again into the odd pigmentation.

"You're staring." Lysander blushed, but didn't look away.

"They're beautiful, I'm sorry." I said, suddenly embarrassed.

"Most would call it odd, abnormal even." Lysander said.

"Did you hear any of those words from me? Nope. Don't think so. I have an eye for beautiful things. Heterochromia iridium, isn't it?"

"You really are something, aren't you?"

"You tell me." I said.

"Is that all? A week is a pretty long time, that couldn't have been the only thing going on with you."

"Well… there's this other thing bothering me, but never mind, it's nothing."

"Alright, don't tell me." Lysander sighed, giving me a mischievous sideways glance.

"Fine, ugh, it's just weird. Nathaniel, he's really touchy. I don't know."

"Has he tried anything on you?" Lysander asked, his face suddenly full of concern.

"No, well, not really. I mean when I see him he gives me these hugs, and the day after we fought at my place, he kissed me on the forehead and that was just…awkward. I've been trying to avoid him."

"Maybe he's interested in you." Lysander commented.

"Oh, no. Don't even go there, Lys."

"I'm just voicing out the possibilities." He said, opening his palms upward. "Possibly, he just regards you as a close friend, or a best friend. Possibly because you've been eating lunch with him everyday since you ditched Castiel and I, thank you very much."

"Sorry…hey he's not my best friend!" I said, frowning at the thought and feeling guilty at the same time.

"That's because you've got one right here." Lysander smirked.

"Oh shut it." I rolled my eyes. "You should meet Mason, I think you'll really like him."

"Who is this 'Mason'?"

"My best friend from back home." I answered, my eyes clouding at the thought of him. "You two would get along. He likes to sing too."

"If he's anything like you then we'd have no problem."

"Oh, he's pretty much my other half." I said, grinning. "Wait—what time is it? Lys, we have to get back to class!"

"You actually want to get back to class? I see changes in you, already." Lysander joked, swinging the door open and letting me walk ahead of him. We weaved around the dark corridor and finally burst out back into the empty hall of the school.

"Come and eat with us again?" He said.

I nodded, feeling better and more welcome than I had in days.

"I'll see you there." I promised, then sprinted off to my next class before the bell rang.

Recess came, and I was just eager to talk to my sister about the keys Lysander had given me. The second my class ended, I went over to the Laboratory and waited for her to come out, grabbing her wrist once I spotted her curls.

"Watch it! This bracelet's new!" Bridgette hissed, rubbing her wrist, which now held bead marks thanks to me.

"I can't believe you even have time for shopping." I shook my head. "Or is that all you do with Amber and her minions?"

"It's not all we do." Bridgette said, fixing the gold band with blue beads on it. "Anyway, what do you want? I might forget to go grab my books again."

"I found the keys." I whispered, "but don't say anything."

"Where!" Bridgette squealed a little too loudly, then covered her mouth.

"Lys had them…" I said softly.

"Skye… You're not thinking…"

"Of course not." I shook my head again. "Lysander wouldn't need to take test papers. He's…Lysander."

"I wasn't going to say that." Bridgette said, "I know Lysander wouldn't need them… but…"

"Castiel?" I finished for her. "I know; that crossed my mind too."

"You do know he steals keys all the time, right?" Bridgette added, raising an eyebrow at me.

"You only know that because I told you." I huffed, annoyed at her comment. "But I know. To get up to the roof, to get down to the stairwell at night... But I don't think he would. Believe it or not, Cas's grades are way better than you'd think they'd be."

"Are you saying he's out of the question?" Bridgette asked me.

"No." I said. No one was out of the question, really. There wasn't any evidence to begin with. "But I do have another one in—I should get to class."

"Who!" Bridgette pressed, this time taking my arm. Today she decided to wear her heels, towering over me like I was a kid.

"You're not really the person I should be saying anything to." I said with pursed her lips.

"S-Skye!" Bridgette gasped, letting go of my arm. "You don't…you don't think it's me, do you? I'd never—I swear—"

"No! I was going to say Amber!" I cut in before she could say more. "Relax, Bridge."

"Oh." Bridgette peeped. "Wait, why Amber? You're just putting her in because you hate her, aren't you?"

"No," I said feebly, rubbing the back of my neck, "Well, that's not the only reason."

"Skye." Bridgette deadpanned, shaking her head disappointedly. "I know she's a bitch and all, but really?"

"I have my theories." I countered, feeling bad that it seemed like I was being judgmental. "I've been thinking about it all morning. Okay, she had to be pissed off or something. Think about it."

"She's pissed about a lot of things, I would know." Bridgette said, shrugging. Tell me, Bridgette, tell me. "Whatever, I have to get to class. I'll talk to you later."

"Try and figure this out, will you?" I said, and for good measure, "I know you wanna help Nate."

"Kill yourself." Bridgette rolled her eyes, before we both laughed shoved each other and went our separate ways.

As I spun around though, I bumped into Nathaniel, just the person I wanted to see.

"Nate!"

"Skye!"

"I need to talk to you!"

"I need to talk to you too!"

We both blinked at each other then laughed awkwardly. I noticed that he wasn't as tall as I thought he was when I first met him.

"Students' Council Room?" Nathaniel suggested. I nodded as I followed in behind him.

"So what is it you want to talk about?" He asked, shutting the door behind him.

"Well—"

"Wait, I just have to get this off my chest." Nathaniel cut in, combing his hair out of his face, "I'm sorry for…how do you say this…coming off too strong the last time we were here alone. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you being vulnerable, and I just want to apologize. I don't want to give off the wrong message."

"Oh," I sighed in relief, "Nate thank God, because I only see you as a—"

"Friend." Nathaniel finished, nodding his head. "I know. I could tell by the way you've been avoiding me, and how you're quiet at lunch. I hope both you and Castiel settle your differences soon."

"You only see me as a friend too though, right?" I asked him cautiously, narrowing my eyes. I just wanted to be sure, and clear the air.

"Yes. You and I, we're just friends. I just got carried away with the moment." Nathaniel said, blushing. "Sorry."

"It's fine." I added quickly. I felt a whole load lift right off my shoulders, and now I finally felt like I could talk to Nathaniel normally again without thinking back to… never mind. "But there is something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it then?" Nathaniel asked, straightening the pens in his pocket. "Anything on the current case, hopefully?"

"I have the stolen keys." I said.

Suddenly, Nathaniel's eyes widened in shock.

"H-How? Where? Oh—Skylar, I can't thank you enough—" Before I knew it, I was being squeezed by Nathaniel in a tight hug, my arms stuck to my sides. "Really, I thought my position as a—"

"N-Nate, um, getting carried away again," I muffled into his shoulder.

"What? Oh, God, sorry. I just—thank you. Really, my whole reputation is on the line here. I could get expelled."

"Problem's not solved yet though, we still don't know where the papers are, or who did it." I said, straightening my gray t-shirt when Nathaniel finally let me go.

"Go into the Teacher's Lounge." He said softly, sounding more like he was talking to himself than me. "That's it. That's what you have to do. Look inside the lounge and check for clues."

"Nate! Are you trying to get me expelled?" I gaped. What a guy. What a President.

"Please Skye, I know it's a huge favor to ask but I can't think of another way." Nate looked at me with his warm golden puppy eyes and I didn't know how to refuse. I had never seen him so on-edge and desperate. After a few seconds of turning the idea around in my head, I finally sighed in defeat.

"Fine. But I'm not doing it alone."

"Who do you have in mind to be your accomplice, then?" Nathaniel chirped happily, obviously pleased with himself.

"Nate, please don't make this seem more like a crime than it already is." I said, exasperated already. My conscience was so not in the right place anymore. "Bridgette? I don't know."

"Perfect." Nathaniel clapped his hands together. "I'll meet you two after lunch, and get you inside. The lounge is normally empty, since all the teachers are in class."

"Got it." I sighed, still feeling guilty.

Bridgette and I at it again. As they always said in our old school, 'trouble's just around the corner when you put the Whitman twins together'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: REVIEWS REVIEWS REVIEWS! AHHHH! Please, I seriously love em! I answer all questions through PM or leave a review and I'll reply! Thank you so much for the support and stay updated! I love you guys!
> 
> Check out One Thing On My Mind, my other story which is parallel to this one, for Bridgette's point of view! I suggest you guys read the chapter's side by side if you want a full glimpse on what's going on :-) thank you!
> 
> \- lostconcoctions
> 
> (oh wow you look gorgeous today, that review box looks pretty empty though... why don't you fill it up?)


	7. Six: Fights and Fixes

Six: Fights and Fixes

Lunch couldn't have come sooner. My heart was racing as I paid the lunch lady behind the counter for my fries and mac n' cheese. All day I had engrossed myself into the whole investigation to the point that I had taken notes on it during classes. It really could've been anyone, anyone with low grades, or just a regular student that didn't want the exams to push through, or maybe anyone who just pulled a prank. In fact, there wasn't any evidence that it wasn't one of the teachers that misplaced it. Ever since I got a hold of the keys from Lysander, all I thought about was getting into the teacher's lounge and checking for clues myself. I barely thought about how the time passed, or Lysander's invitation to come back and eat with them.

But now, I was here to face him as a friend (sort of) and not a suspect.

I grabbed the paper bowl of macaroni and fries and made my way outside to the courtyard. It was still pretty empty since everyone was flocking around the cafeteria, buying food, and I thought Castiel and Lysander would be too until I heard an, "over here."

I turned to my left and saw the familiar flash of silver, emerald and gold wave me over to the back of the gym. Following his lead, I came to the area in the grass they had made their territory. Castiel was looking passive, smoking a cigarette, as he sat against the wall of the gym.

"Well someone's back." He commented first, still not looking me in the eye. I couldn't see his eyes, the only things that gave hints to his emotions, and I wanted more than anything to catch a glance. Did he want me here, really? Or was I making a mistake?

I sucked in a breath, realizing that he wasn't going to say anymore, and neither was Lysander, who was scribbling in his notebook again, and decided to be the "better person", as people would say.

"I'm sorry." I said first, exhaling the words out in a rush. It was new, to be apologizing to Castiel. Usually, we just dropped it. This seemed to shock him just a bit, finally turning to me with his silver gaze. Though instead of cold steel staring right at me, I found my eyes coming in contact with warm charcoal irises, and I couldn't pull away, and I waited, waited, for him to break the contact first because for some reason, seeing his eyes look at me in a non-hostile way, had me paralyzed, body and mind. I sucked in an involuntary small gasp.

"Um." Castiel cleared his throat, casting his eyes towards the ground as he lit up a new cigarette. "Want one?"

I looked at Lys, who was smirking. He moved towards me and leaned into my ear, whispering, "Take it. I know I'm trying to help you quit, Skye, but I think we all know this is a different kind of cigarette." Then he picked up his jacket off the ground and muttered an excuse to leave, something about buying milk or whatever.

I shuffled my feet timidly into the ground, and walked closer to Castiel.

"This stick won't last very long while I'm holding it." He said, impatience in his tone but also a hint of humor. I just nodded and accepted, taking the white stick into my fingers. Castiel took out his own, then brought out a neon orange lighter. We both leaned in close, faces almost touching as we huddled to light up, then quickly, when I felt the brush of his nose against the tip of mine, we both pulled back, inhaling the familiar menthol into my lungs and leaning against the wall. A light blush colored my cheek, and I tried finishing the cigarette as quickly as I could to calm my nerves. There goes my hard work, right out the window, but hey, this was worth it. We both knew that we couldn't stand small talk, so we just smoked in silence. But it wasn't the tense kind. I mean sure, there was still a bit of awkwardness, and though we were outside, it did feel stuffy, but it was better than I ever got before.

"Since I broke into your house and screamed at you, you're more than welcome to do the same at mine." Castiel broke the silence.

"I'm exhausted from fighting." I sighed jokingly. "Give me another week."

"You already avoided me for a week, time's up, little girl. Let's get down to business." He pounded his fists together.

"Oh shush," I rolled my eyes, lowering his fist with my hand. Castiel just smirked again, shaking his head and inhaling.

"I was right though." Castiel commented as I stubbed out my cigarette.

"About?"

"Nathaniel being your loverboy." A playful smirk found its way onto his sly lips.

"Oh shut up," I said, rolling my eyes. "Lys told you?"

"That you had sex on his little work desk?" He teased.

"God, you're sick. He didn't even get close."

"W-Wait, what? I was totally bluffing, I didn't think he actually tried…" His face was suddenly in a scowl again and his fist was clenched.

"Whoa, no it was nothing, really—"

"I'm ba-ack," Lysander sung, holding a small carton of milk in his hand. "What did I miss?"

Castiel and I both just blinked at Lysander, and didn't say a word.

The three of us walked to class, Castiel had actually decided to go to his this time, side by side through the hallways. I noticed a few wandering eyes and whispers that followed us, most of them undressing the boys with their eyes. There was the occasional look of disgust towards me as I squeezed between the two, but I didn't mind. In fact, I felt better than I had in days.

Lysander and I had History together, so we bid Castiel goodbye, Lys with a pat on his shoulder and me with an awkward nod, and parted ways. We filed into the classroom, as I took my seat in the back and dragged Lysander (again—really, we sat at the back all the time, I didn't know why he insisted otherwise) along. The period went by quickly, and now that the huge weight of facing Castiel was lifted off my shoulders, I felt more carefree, but definitely more distracted from the lesson. I remembered to tell Bridgette about the plan later so I ripped the edge of a pad and scribbled to Bridgette,

We're sneaking into the teacher's lounge after Histo.

I folded it neatly and tapped Melody on the shoulder to pass it to her. She did, but not without throwing me the disapproving glare. Goody goody. As I waited for my sister's response, I turned my attention to the book. There was a full-page spread of a picture of Adolph Hitler staring straight at me.

"Why are we studying this again?" I whispered to Lysander. "Everyone knows the Hitler story."

"You'll be surprised at how many who don't." He replied, noting something down on his own pad.

"I'm bored, Lys."

"You can listen to the lesson, then."

I grabbed a tiny post-it from my pencil case and shaded it in black, then stuck it on my top lip.

"Auf weidersehen, asshole." I mimicked in a German accent. Lysander bit into his lip and tried his best not to laugh, keeping his eyes on the bored.

"Alfalfa."

Lys sputtered and bit on his lip harder. Soon, Melody was passing me back a note and looking extra disappointed in me.

Are you insane?! Bridgette wrote back.

"What's this?" Lysander leaned in. How could a tiny note get his attention and not my Hitler re-enactment? "You're…Dear, are you sure you should be doing this?"

"Honey," I mimicked in a sweet voice, "Yes, now butt out."

"I will not just 'butt out' if you're putting your whole grade and conduct in danger, Skye." Lysander said. "You could get caught."

"Lys," I said, turning to him. "This is a mystery. You know you like mysteries. And on top of that, what's the fun in life if you always do things by the rules, right?"

I wrote back, Girls' bathroom after this. Nate will help us out. Be there or be a loser. Then decided to add, PS: Lysander thinks ur gross.

"I've never said that!" Lysander got defensive, grabbing the note and wrote, I don't think that. Your sister's very irritating. – Lysander

I rolled my eyes and took the note back, then handed it to Melody for the last time.

Lysander sighed, though I could tell I broke him.

"Castiel must be rubbing off on you already." He muttered.

After that, as I was about to rush over to the girls' bathroom, Lysander pulled me to the corner of the classroom.

"Lys, what's going on?"

"Be careful." He said, squeezing my arm.

"I will be!"

"I'm serious, Skye. Are you sure you want to do this? You're putting your life on the line here, you know."

I looked down at Lysander's boots.

"I know, and yes, I'm not going to regret this. I'll be careful." I promised. Lysander just looked at me with his multicolored eyes, and I just went for it, I hugged him. I couldn't resist, he seemed to really care about me, the only person who really did in this school, and he was my only real friend that I was sure wouldn't take off running. I could tell he was shocked, I heard his heartbeat speed against my cheek, then soon relax again as his arms wrapped around my shoulders, another one into my hair. He had a nice, clean, boyish smell to him, and I would've stayed like this for the rest of the day if I could. Students had started to file in, and in the corner of my eye, I spotted Li, who was staring at me wide-eyed and slack-jawed. With the new crowd of people, Lysander spun on his heel and disappeared into the hall. I ran over to meet my sister in the restroom, and there she was, looking as nervous as ever.

"Finally!" She threw her arms up. "Where have you been?"

"I got a little pep talk." I said, thinking back to Lysander's burst of sudden concern. It made me smile. "Are you rea—"

"Girls." Nathaniel threw the door open. Both our heads snapped to attention as he beckoned both of us to join him in the Students' Council Room. There, Melody stood shuffling some papers.

"Can you give us some time, Mel?" Nathaniel asked sweetly, his voice having a calming effect even on my nerves. Now I knew why parents liked him so much. Melody set the papers down and looked disappointed, but quickly changed her expression into something that looked a little bit hostile. Her eyes flickered to me, then to Bridgette, then back and forth, then landed again at Nathaniel, as if she wasn't sure which one of the twins was more dangerous.

"I'll be in class if you need me." She whispered, ducking out of the room and shutting it.

"Alright, we don't have much time." Nathaniel said once we heard the click. "I'll just cut through the chase. Wait for the principal to leave the hallways, she's being—"

"Batshit crazy?" Bridgette suggested.

"Yes, that," Nathaniel went on, looking exasperated and desperate. "So once she goes back into her office, meet me out in the courtyard, and I'll take you both in. Remember, be quick because we don't have much time. And don't make a noise, or we're all dead."

Bridgette shook her head. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"You're doing it." I elbowed her, winking. "No backing out now or I'm eating all the nutella you bought yesterday." Bridgette mock gasped, and tried elbowing me back, but failed.

"Yeah, yeah…" she muttered, brushing her dress off.

It took longer than expected, and harder too, to be stealthy in the hallway and keep an eye on the principal at the same time. She was looking frazzled and almost crazy as she paced around hopelessly, though I didn't get the point, she wasn't getting anything done. Finally though, she disappeared into her office cursing at her little dog.

"You ready?" Nathaniel poked his head into the school.

Bridgette and I both nodded, and waved him inside. There, Nathaniel brought out the keys and whispered to us, "Be. Careful." After a wink from Bridgette and athumbs up from me, we both stepped into the teacher's lounge. It was around two classrooms long, with colored couches and file cabinets, some plants, the usual coffee machine.

"I'm freezing." I shivered, rubbing my arms.

"You're always freezing." Bridgette commented, her arms not even showing a sign of goosebumps even as the air conditioner blew right at her. "Okay let's hurry."

I checked under the coffee table, and behind the coffee machines for any clues though with no such luck. I dug around the couches and found nothing either. After a few silent minutes, I was getting frustrated, my whole brain focusing on every little detail in the room but not finding anything of importance.

"There's nothing here Bridge!" I moaned, running a hand through my fringe.

Bridgette, was rummaging through the file cabinet, looked more fascinated than ever, rather than frustrated.

"Bridgette!" I snapped my fingers, frustrated. "Hello! Focus!"

"It's everyone's files…" she whispered more to herself. Something about that perked up my curiosity. Files? What kind of—no. No, stop it. I willed myself to turn away and look around some plants instead.

"You just want to read something about Nate." I teased, looking through the leaves, though I knew nothing was there. Really, my attention was suddenly divided between reading a file or the clues. Seriously, who wouldn't be even slightly interested in someone? Anyone? Maybe I could even get some dirt on Amber…not that I cared.

"And you just want something on Lysander. What's his last name anyway?"

"Callixto." I murmured, thinking back to Lys and his secret spot and Lys back in the classroom. "I don't need a file to know that."

"Yeah, but I know you want to know more…" Bridgette urged, winking at me. I rolled my eyes. Did I want to know more? No. No I didn't, I could get to know Lysander better myself. I mean sure he was really closed off, and he didn't like to say much, and he probably would never tell me much about myself but…No. I had better judgment. Though I did tell him I was a curious person, and…Oh fuck this.

"If you want to look into someone's files, do it for yourself!" I told Bridgette firmly, looking under some chairs. I made up my mind.

"You're already snooping anyway!" My sister laughed.

"Snooping for a good cause!"

"Nate's an open book. No one needs a file of him." Bridgette said. "Ooh, C…C…Callixto, Lysander, I found it."

"Put that down, Bridgette."

But my sister had already started, "Lysander is a Scorpio, has negative AB blood, his grades are…whoa. Wow. Genius much?"

"That's Lys for you…" I shrugged.

"And he has a brother named Leigh that owns the clothes shop in town. Come to think of it, they do kind of look alike, don't you think?" Bridgette finished, returning the file. As I looked up to my sister to give her a disapproving look, something blue caught my eye under the chair I was about to search.

"Bridge…" I started.

"I mean I guess you haven't been to the clothes shop, since obviously you've been wearing the same stuff from California—"

"Look at—" I reached for the small trinket and brought it up to the light.

"Not that you're running out of clothes, seriously, you ought to give some to charity and—"

"Bridgette!" I cut her off, waving it to her face. "Look at this!"

In my hand, I held a small bracelet. A cheap-looking one, with turquoise beads and a gold band holding them together. I could've sworn I've seen it before…

"Skye." Bridgette deadpanned. "Give me that bracelet."

"W-What?" I stammered. "No way I—"

"Just let me see it!" My sister groaned, grabbing it from me. She looked at it closely for a while then looked back to me. "Skye, this is Amber's."

"You're joking." Suddenly my day was made, everything seemed brighter and the sun shined harder. FINALLY. Amber Bristol, kleptomaniac and also a bad one at that.

"I'm not I—"

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING HERE!"

Holy crap.

The principal had burst in, caught us red handed and shouted at the two of us, Bridgette and I both trying to contain our laughter and trying to look sorry at the same time. After a, "If anything in here goes missing, you two are going to be held accountable!" and a wave of her fist, she kicked us out on our asses.

"Well that went well…" I muttered.

"You two were too noisy." Nathaniel groaned, then headed off down the hall.

"We have to tell him." Bridgette sighed. I knew my sister, and that was her voice when she was about to cry. I wanted to rub her shoulder or pull her into a hug or something, but we had never been that kind of people, at least, not to each other.

"I'll do it." I volunteered. "To save you the trouble."

"You know, Amber will beat your ass." Bridgette said, shaking her head and sniffling. Yep, she was crying. All for Amber.

"She'd beat your ass harder if you were the one who told on her." I said.

"True." Bridgette sighed. "Thank you, Skye."

"What are big sisters for, right?" I snickered.

"This is the only time you're actually being a good big sister." Bridgette laughed, throwing her head back as she wiped her tears.

"That's because I'm not obliged to be." I said, "I'm only like…two minutes older."

I took Satan's spawn's bracelet from Bridgette and pocketed it, making our way to class together since we shared this one. Apparently, Nathaniel had already excused us both with his pretty cool Student Body President power, so I was able to just slip into a chair in the back while Bridgette settled somewhere in the middle. An empty one sat beside me, and it made me wonder what in the world Castiel could be doing to pass the time. The whole period, I ticked away the minutes in my head, just waiting for the time to be able to tell Nathaniel. Annoyingly, he didn't have any classes with me for the rest of the day since it was almost over, so I would have to confront Amber about it instead. When the bell rang, I rose from my seat and gathered my stuff, already thinking up places where Amber could be, or what her next class was, when Bridgette grabbed my arm.

"My throat could be slit for this, but it's in Amber's locker." She whispered, then disappeared outside along with Li and Charlotte.

I didn't waste any time and speed-walked all the way down to the stairwell, and there it was, in plain sight, the manila envelope that held all our test papers. I rolled my eyes and reached over to get it, stuffing it right into my bag.

Just then, the door flew open and so did Charlotte, Li, and Bridgette trailing behind. When I turned to Li, I saw her eyes were burning, so was her whole face.

"Y-You!" she pointed her perfectly painted red nail at me. It was sharp like a razor and I was suddenly scared of why it was me she was pointing at. "You little slut!"

"Li!" Bridgette barked, though I knew it was useless.

"Let her go." Charlotte told my sister.

"Ever since you came to this school, everything's been all wrong! You've been throwing yourself to every boy that's willing to give you the time of day, especially Lysander-"

"At least he's willing to give me the time of day!" I yelled suddenly, then covered my mouth, but I knew this would end badly. My blood was rushing and my heart and body went along with it. I curled my fists into balls at my sides to try and control myself, but Li's high-pitched voice only drove me over the edge.

"Oh fuck you, you stupid slut! Isn't Castiel fucking Statham enough for you? Or do you really need two men at your belt to get you to sleep at night? Before you came, everything was perfectly fine! No one in this damn school wants you here and you should go back to where you came from, you annoying loser!"

"Yeah and everyone must love you, right? Because you're Li! Because you're so…so…oh wait, I can't even think of a word for what you are besides Amber's little lapdog! And I know for a fact you've been trying to get into Lysander's pants since you bought your first bra, and where has that gotten you?"

"Why you fucking BITCH! I will get Lysander Callixto from you if it's the last thing I do—"

Before I knew it, a claw of red nails were launching towards me, and all I could do was freeze. My whole body froze too, and I waited for it, the cuts, the stains, the hair pulling, the blood, and I closed my eyes, holding my breath, and I sucked in one last gasp of air before I heard Li's screech, until suddenly I heard,

"L-Lysander?"

Slowly I peeled one eye open first, then the other, and my whole being suddenly slumped against the lockers in relief. Lysander towered, his slim, lanky body, standing over Li and holding her raised wrist with one hand, a calm but definitely pissed-off face on.

"That's enough, Lianne." He said, his voice suddenly silencing the whole stairwell. Any stray students that had come to watch the action, suddenly looked away in embarrassment, though I still heard their little whispers.

'That Lysander dude is weird, and will always be weird'

'Holy shit Li almost ripped Skye's eyes out'

'New girl's hot when she's pissed'

'I like her sister better'

'Does that lipstick chick even have a name besides Amber number two?'

"Lysander, I didn't, I had no idea you were here, I mean—" Li was suddenly stuttering as she stared into Lysander's eyes.

"Regardless if I was around or not, I'd like it if you and the rest of your little group left Skylar here alone." He said, dropping her wrist like it was covered in dirt. I caught his warm gaze, and looked at him, suddenly speechless too.

"I wasn't actually going to—"

"I mean it Li." And I knew his words were final. Li's lip suddenly quivered, her eyes threw me one last look, an unreadable one, and she spun around on her heel, eyes watering as she burst out of the stairwell.

"The papers are gone." Charlotte breathed, sounding horrified. It was the most expression I had heard from her since I arrived. "Shit."

"Let's check somewhere else." Bridgette said, looking at me with her light brown eyes. Charlotte rushed out, after Li and the other students, who had gotten bored now since it was over and were making their way to class. Suddenly, Bridgette squeezed me tightly, to the point were I choked, and smiled as she pulled back, running after Charlotte. Then, it was just the lockers, Lysander, and I. I finally looked up into his eyes again, my face heating up with embarrassment.

"Lys," I started, "That thing that I said about her getting into your pants, I mean—"

"No, no," Lysander shook his head, a playful smile on his face, "Please, don't apologize. I found it quite entertaining actually."

I scratched the back of my neck, still embarrassed.

"It's true though." Lysander said, holding me by the hip as we climbed the stairs and out the door, "Not sure about the bra part, but about getting to my pants, definitely. If I recall correctly, at this one party she offered… Ah never mind."

"Tell me!"

"It's embarrassing."

"You already started." I groaned, tugging at his fingers around my waist.

"That's something I'll be telling you when we're extremely close." Lysander snickered, tapping the tip of my nose, which I scrunched up at the contact.

"We are extremely close!" I protested, though I was already starting to let go of the topic as we walked through the halls. We stopped beside the doorframe of the Chemistry lab.

"Only physically." Lysander said, leaning over me, and only then did I notice our proximity when I felt his warm breath on my cheekbones.

"Don't tell me you're not emotionally attached. You walk me to almost every class." I joked. The air between us was extremely light, and friendly, almost to the point of flirty, if I wasn't mistaken, though it was more fun than serious.

"You're right, this is getting dangerous. Before you know it, we'll be attached to the hip." Lysander smirked, pushing off the doorframe and stalking off to his own class. I rolled my eyes, smiling to myself. Ironically, we were attached to the hip just seconds ago.

Last period, and I was already drained, emotionally and physically. The experiment we did was fairly simple, doing flame tests and recording what colors came from different elements under flame, and I was just glad that Violette was good directing and supervising, or else I would've ended up burning every element on the display. As I walked outside once the bell rang, glad that the day was over, I noticed a flash of blond hair piled on the top of a tanned head. All the students were spilling out of the classrooms, and then, that's when I realized, it was Amber Bristol.

She stood in the middle of the hallway, her chin high, blue eyes beaming with pride as if she had turned into Miranda Kerr overnight. Everyone was silent as every pair of eyes were on her, scanning her from head to toe. She had on knitted pink tights up her legs, a green wool sweater than reached her knees, suede royal blue ankle boots and to top it off, a burgundy scarf tied around her neck.

My jaw dropped open for the second time that day. It looked like she had gone on a scavenger hunt inside my closet, and brought out the good items and mismatched their colors on purpose. I concluded that Amber Bristol was colorblind. No one with proper eyesight could've put together such a contrasting outfit.

"Cas-tiel!" She called out in a teasing tone. "Where are you!"

Some people had started to take pictures and laugh to themselves, some racing who would get to put the picture on instagram first. Amber though, held her head high, and tapped her foot impatiently. There was no mistaking it; she had tried too hard to dress up like me. She probably meant to piss me off, or flatter me, but all I wanted to do was laugh. I looked down at my plain outfit for the day: converse, black jeans, a gray tank top under a white Padres hoodie. Suddenly, I wished I was in the same outfit Amber was in, though I definitely would've picked better tones to go together. That's when I did actually laugh. Almost like a maniac, and I couldn't control it. I laughed like there was no tomorrow.

"Oh my God, look who it is!" Amber squealed sarcastically, her eyes landing on me as I exited the lab. "It's so great to see you, Skylar."

"Hello Amber." I greeted coolly, still recovering from laughter, narrowing my eyes at her. She approached me, backing me into the wall.

"Well you're looking extra ugly today." She remarked.

"Good, I was trying to look like you." I said snidely, giggling.

A bunch of 'Ooh's and 'Burn's' erupted from those that could hear our conversation. Amber looked around her, and shot glares at everyone, before shoving me into the Chemistry lab again.

"Why did you steal the test papers, Amber?" I asked, in all seriousness.

"Nathaniel didn't back me up last time, so if he couldn't do that for me, I'd rather that he lose his post!"

"Well why would he back up a sister that does this to him?" I asked, waving my hand to motion at her, like she was living proof of evil.

"Whatever, you better keep your mouth shut or I will make your life hell."

"I don't care." I said. "I'm telling Nate."

Right on queue, Nathaniel came into view. He was blue in the face, looking distressed and in shock.

"Y-You heard all that?" I asked, stuttering.

He nodded, rubbing his temples.

"I think I need a talk with Amber for now." He said. "But thank you, Skye. You and Bridgette both, you've helped me out all day, running around, and now, that you're willing to tell me… Yeah, I just need…"

"I get it." I nodded, backing out of the room.

Finally, I thought the day would be over. Everyone was packing their stuff, and seemed to have forgotten all the drama today. All I wanted to do was curl up on the couch with my husky, Boo Radley, and watch Sherlock reruns all night and probably, all weekend. I waited by the door of the Students' Council Room for Bridgette to pass, but I didn't see her. Sweet Amoris High was slowly emptying itself as the sky turned darker. It was only when it was sunset did I finally see someone, though it wasn't my sister, exit the Principal's office. It was Amber.

"Bitch!" She screamed, darting towards me, her heels click-clacking in the boots.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God…

"You!" She huffed, "Got! Me! Suspended!"

Amber, rushing towards me, raised her fist and looked me straight in the eye, and I realized how bad her and her group hated me, and how this would've been the second time I was going to be attacked, and fuck, where's Lysander, and where is everyone to see this, and holy crap I was so, so, so dead—

"Not again—" I gasped, closing my eyes, waiting for the impact when—

"Hey Amber, are you bothering my girlfriend over here?"

My eyes popped open and a warm cheek was being pressed to mine, red hair slightly rubbing against my face. I knew this smell, the ironic mix of cigarettes and fresh air, and a whole lot of that 'boy smell', the familiar bomber jacket sleeve as his arm hooked around my neck, and the sweet, rough voice that sent me reeling and my blood raging at the same time.

Castiel.

"G-Girlfriend?!" Amber screeched, stepping back. Loose blond strands had already started to worm their way out of her bun, and threads in her sweater looked like they had been picked on all day.

"That's right, run along now." Castiel waved her off. Amber growled at me, literally growled, like a tiger, then turned on her heel and headed towards the Principal's office again, where Nathaniel was exiting. Castiel and I both watched the scene unfold, where the two Bristols exchanged harsh words towards each other, and ended with Amber clawing Nathaniel right across his perfectly toned cheek, before stomping off.

"Ouch." Castiel said, touching his own cheek, "I almost felt that for Bristol."

"Um, Cas, you can—"

"Oh, right." Castiel recoiled his arm. "Don't get any ideas. I was just saving your life."

I chuckled, looking at him from under my lashes. "No ideas, got it."

"Though a thank you isn't so bad either." Castiel muttered, opening the door beside me. I looked over my shoulder, to where Nathaniel was just scratched, and found that my sister had started to tend to him and steer him towards the nurses office. I followed Castiel outside of the school, towards the parking lot.

"Thank you Castiel." I snickered, looking to another direction. Thank you's always made me pink in the cheeks. It was embarrassing to me, even when I knew it shouldn't be.

"For…?" Castiel prodded jokingly.

"Saving my life, as you would've called it."

"As it should be called, thank you very much!"

"I almost died twice today." I said, shuddering as we walked towards the black Camaro. "You could'a saved me then too."

"But then where would I have come in if Castiel did all the work?" A voice emerged from behind the black car, and out came Lysander as if he had stepped right out of a shadow. I looked at the two boys, my best friends. One as hotheaded and fierce as the color of his hair, though inside I knew he was warm like his fiery personality, while the other as cool and quiet as the breeze, but deep like the depth of the ocean.

Castiel rolled his eyes and muttered something about him 'showing Amber', and how much better his scene was because Amber was head over heels for him and he called me his girlfriend, which would've stung more. Lysander gave him props for that, though he countered by saying how Li's nails were sharper than Amber's and if he didn't swoop in to save me, have my face would've been torn into ribbons. I just laughed it off with them, as we all climbed into Lysander's car, driving off to wherever we were headed, playing loud Nirvana songs and singing like we were all Kurt Cobain.

And that was when I knew I wasn't in the "wrong crowd", despite what everyone said about them—don't think I didn't know—I knew the rumors. It wasn't perfect, definitely not even close, but whatever Lysander, Castiel, and I had, I wouldn't have given it up for the world.


	8. Seven: Lazy Days and Fast Nights

Fall was in full swing and I loved it. Red and orange leaves had started to fall off the trees, making a mess in everyone else's front porch, though no one had the drive to clean their yard up since we all knew it would just end up the same in the morning. The air was chilly and it was a time to bring out the scarves, the coats, the tights, and the legwarmers. Let's just say, I really liked this season.

I stretched my arms out until my toes touched the edge of my bed and yawned. It was a regular Saturday. I already expected another lazy day at home, or possibly, if I got the energy, I would drive over to the café and have some hot chocolate with someone. I didn't know yet, my head was still foggy and half-asleep. I reached for my phone and unplugged it from its charger to find a few texts left for me over night.

I opened Lysander's first: Rise and shine, Lady Macbeth! Text me when you're up x Lys. And a good morning in advance. I smiled and replied, Good morning MacB, don't kill me for sleeping in again.

Then Mason's long and detailed text about how his parents were fighting again, how Tyler, Bridgette's long-distance boyfriend, was running for a scholarship for football, and how his older brother Dylan who was already in college still asked about me until now. That last part made me laugh. Dylan was like a Ken, I knew he liked me, but also, he was the opposite, because he didn't like to show it. We would be swimming at Tyler's one Friday and he would do little things for me like pulling my chair or bringing me orange juice, and when I'd thank him, he'd turn as red as a tomato. He was sweet though, and pretty good-looking too. Compared to his little brother Tyler, who was muscular and built with hazel eyes and dirty blond hair, Dylan was tall and lanky, with dark brown hair and dark eyebrows, high cheekbones and a silent demeanor. Just thinking about them right then made me miss the two Carson brothers and our various water gun and kool-aid afternoons.

Finally, there was a text from Castiel, who really barely texted me. Though we had already made up and be friends, really, it didn't stop us from butting heads once in a while. I opened the text, Sorry for calling you an insensitive bitch when you called me an immature prick. ß There, I apologized first so you totally have to forgive me and say sorry first next time. Kbye you totally secretly aren't mad. – Cas, I smiled to myself and rolled my eyes even though he wouldn't see it, sending a quick reply. It's ayt. Btw I could totally smell the cookies you ate when you were shouting. And we both know we'll always be mad at each other ;).

I got a quick reply in return, 'Remind me to eat more cookies for you to smell next time. True that about the being mad tho. Sorry not sorry.'

Finally, when I decided I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, I rolled out of bed. I guessed Bridgette was still asleep so I barged into her room and shook her until she cursed at me and shooed me out. I knew she'd be up any second though so I took the opportunity to grab my clothes and shower first. The warm water quelled my goose bumps for the fifteen minutes I was under it, though even as I dried my skin, I felt cold all over. Curse Bridgette for having less sensitive skin. I pulled on my black tights, orange and red striped socks for the weather, and a gray pullover with a giant blackbird on it. Checking myself in the mirror, I looked fresh and pink the cheeks, and jet-black strands stuck to my forehead. As I exited the bathroom, towel drying my hair in the process, I heard some muffled voices. When I went down the stairs, I saw Bridgette in the kitchen, making herself toast, and Lysander sitting in one of the stools by the counter.

"You're way too sweet, Lysander," Bridgette was saying. "Seriously, I don't even know normal friends who do this. Is there something up?"

"If something was up, I'm not sure if you're the first person I should tell, Ms. Nosy." Lysander replied. I stopped my tracks.

"I mean is there something up between you and her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking, do you like S—"

"What's this?" I trotted down the stairs before Bridgette could ask what I knew she was going to ask. Leave it to my sister to get to the bottom of anything to do with love. Wait…love?

Lysander quickly got to his feet, greeting me with a warm smile. His silver hair stuck out in funny places and it looked like he had just jumped out of bed since his eyes still looked groggy.

"Good morning." He said, and held up a paper bag. I smelled butter and bread and something sweet. "I brought you breakfast."

I had a bunch of questions in my head, like why was he here? Why did he bring breakfast? Was this going to become a regular thing or was this once in a while? Was he surprising me? But, why?

"You…brought…breakfast?" I repeated stupidly, running a hand through my short wet hair as I stared at my new best friend standing in my house. Everything around him seemed to lose its uniqueness and looked plain and bland to me. It was probably because of how different he was and the eccentric vibe he gave off, but suddenly I felt like everything about me from my dark hair, my eyes, my outfit, was unworthy to even be around him.

"I wasn't sure what was your favorite since you seem to eat anything up as long as it didn't have any vegetables in it, so I grabbed a bunch from the bakery and made some at home myself." Lysander said brightly. It was new to see him like this and I wasn't sure what to make of it. I had been seeing sides of Lysander lately I never even knew existed and it was as pleasant as it was surprising. This was probably part of his little plan to try and get to know me better, though it made me feel pretty lame. I didn't think I had sides or surprises to be discovered, though Lys was convinced otherwise.

"I…Wow. Thanks Lys." I was almost speechless. A smile had found its way onto my mouth and suddenly I was grinning like an idiot. Lysander smiled back.

"Your room?" He suggested and I followed upstairs after him.

Once the door was shut and Lysander and I were alone, we launched into conversation. We made a make shift picnic blanket out of a dry beach towel that read 'Aloha! Welcome to Hawaii!' and shared whatever he brought over like the croissants, the baguettes, the apple juice, the cheese. Whatever Lysander said, I knew what to say right back, and it amazed me how much we could talk about when it was just the two of us. When all the food was off the plates and into our stomachs, Lysander gave a contented sigh and leaned against my bed.

"Thank you." I said to him, poking his thigh with my socked toe.

"You're welcome." Lysander said, squeezing my foot in his hand and getting me to laugh. "I like your socks."

"It's chilly."

"You just have to get used to the weather here, Ms. West Coast."

I clucked my tongue and rolled my eyes in reply.

"So, why?" I tried to wiggle my foot out of his grasp. "Why'd you come over and bring me breakfast all of a sudden? Don't tell me you just 'felt like it'."

"But I did just 'feel like it'." Lysander said, finally letting go of me. "I wanted to see you."

"You just wanted to see me." I deadpanned, raising my eyebrow.

"Mhmm."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want. I think friends should just be allowed to just want to see a friend." Lysander asked, crawling over to my side.

I rolled my eyes and leaned on his shoulder, breathing in his boyish scent that mixed with cinnamon.

"You are." I sighed, holding on to his arm

"You don't sound so happy about that."

"I am." I said, looking into his mismatched irises. "You just…I don't know. You make me miss my best friend Mason, that's all."

"You really miss this 'Mason', don't you?"

I nodded solemnly.

"I love Mason." I said, shrugging my shoulders. "But is it weird that I… I mean I always believed you shouldn't trust a lot of people, open yourself to everyone, because those who get the closest have the most capacity to hurt you, but…"

"But…?" Lysander prodded.

"But you're an exception and I don't know why. I just let you come in like I never built any walls in the first place."

"If you haven't noticed, I don't hang around a lot of people besides Cas. But I let you in, didn't I?"

"I don't either. I mean the only people I can stand are you and Rosalya, and Castiel when he's not being an ass."

"Exactly." Lysander said. "Which is why I just don't reach out to everyone like that."

"Why not?" I asked him. "You're super cool, and talented and sweet. You could be friends with anybody. Plus, you could probably score any girl in school."

"Let's just say, you and I don't think very differently."

"Well I already know that." I laughed.

"I mean about the closer people get, the more they could hurt you. Have less friends, have less chances of losing them. Get me?"

"I get you."

Lysander freed his arm away from my grasp and instead slid it around my shoulder to pull me to his side.

"I get you." I repeated, more to myself.

"I get you too."

"I love you too, by the way."

Lysander hesitated for a second, and it made me realize how awkward I made things. I blushed and tried to look away so he wouldn't notice, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. I never realized how the situation looked since I was so used to telling Mason I loved him back home. I guess I had to learn to remind myself that Lysander and I weren't childhood friends like the guy I was used to.

"And I love you." Lys finally replied, "I've never had to say that to Cas, by the way, so this is by far the oddest friendship I've ever had."

"I say it all the time to Mason." I said, relaxing. "Don't you say it to your brother?"

Lysander snickered.

"To Leigh? Never. Do you say it to Bridgette?"

"Nope." I laughed first then Lysander followed, both of us finding humor in the irony.

"Are we still going to be friends even if I don't bring you breakfast?" I asked jokingly.

"No, I think that's what keeps this friendship going so I expect eggs and bacon tomorrow morning."

I chuckled under my breath as Lysander picked on loose threads on my tights, suddenly wanting to ask him more questions. I wanted to know everything there was to him, and I didn't know why. The more mysterious he kept himself, the more curious I got, and I was in the best position to find out.

"Why do you have different last names with your brother?" I asked, picking on more loose threads.

"How do you know that?" Lysander asked.

"Rosalya doodles a lot." I said. "Rosa Ainsworth is all over her math computations."

"My last name is Ainsworth, but when I registered my name here, let's just say my father and I weren't on good terms. We still aren't."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"You don't have to answer."

"I will. Though it's a long story." Lysander finally said. Finally I felt like I was getting somewhere with him. There were so many different things about Lysander I wanted to figure out. I was so used to already knowing things about people, like back home since I grew up with most of them. He was the first person I had to get to know, and definitely the hardest.

"I like long stories." I said.

Finally Lysander continued, and the look on his face told me it really was something long. "When Leigh dropped out of college to become a dressmaker, my father was furious. See, Leigh didn't ask for even the permission to leave the school. He just did. Our mother knew about it, and supported Leigh all through out, but she wasn't the type to go against our father's wishes. Leigh was supposed to finish college, take over the family business, manage the family funds, et cetera. I didn't have plans back then. All I focused on was my writing. Suddenly, all Leigh's responsibilities and visions my father had for him had switched to me, and I couldn't handle it. I was only around fourteen. When Leigh packed his bags, his works, and bought his own lot here to build a shop in Wesgrove, he asked me to come with him. And I love my brother more than anything, though we don't say it. Neither of us were very close to our father, I couldn't bear the thought of being apart from Leigh either, and the education in the city was much better, so I agreed. When we both broke it to our parents that we were moving to the city, nothing between us and our parents were the same again. They both still fund us, and check in on us sometimes, though the relationship we used to have…Well, not very good. While Leigh strives to make his business prosper and prove to our parents what a success he is, I see things differently. I don't want to carry the name of a man who breaks ties with his children over their own life choices. Which is why I go by my second name, Callixto."

I was quiet and I didn't know what to say. Lysander really was more complex than he had let on. But if anything, I was only more drawn to him.

"Thank you." I finally said.

"For what?"

"For telling me."

Lysander just gave me a lopsided smile, almost a sad one.

After chatting over little things, and mostly just sitting around in silence, I convinced Lysader to give me a progress update on his poetry, so he handed me his leather notebook that he was always losing. His past poem still wasn't finished, but it seemed like he had written a new short one.

The words you say

Keep me up all night

The games you play

Have my heart in flight

Answers are all I seek

To all that I start to feel

The deep desires that I keep

I have to find if they are real

The words you say

Keep me up all night

The games you play

Have my heart in flight

I read Lysander's work over and over.

"You're amazing." I was unable to peel my eyes from his words. "Who is it about?"

"Oh, you know. Someone." Lysander answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Okay, don't tell me, whatever." I rolled my eyes, handing back his notebook with a smirk. "You're really good though. I like that last one."

"Thank you."

Eventually, after Lysander stayed for more than just breakfast, long enough to annoy the hell out of Bridgette to cook us some spaghetti for lunch (which she did—even if she made us help out a lot), Lysander finally left with a thank you to Bridgette and a hug for me.

"I'll catch you on Monday." He said, opening his car door and turning to me. "Or tomorrow when you bring me that breakfast."

"I'm not bringing you breakfast, Lys!" I yelled as he started the engine, and watched him drive off.

"Skye!" Bridgette called over. "Auntie's on the phone!"

I skipped back into the house and plopped into one of the kitchen counters. It was already two in the afternoon, but I was glad to have wasted most of the morning and part of the afternoon with Lysander.

"What's she saying?" I whispered as Bridgette leaned over the other side of the counter across me with a phone to her ear.

"Mhmm…" she murmured, "Yeah, that sounds alright. Why not? O-Oh next week? Really? Yeah…I know. Of course. It's fine! We totally miss you too! I'll tell Skye. Okay, bye Auntie, love you! We'll be there!"

Finally she put the receiver back in its cradle and sighed.

"What's up?" I asked.

"She wants to have dinner with us tonight, see how things are going and all."

"That's cool." I said. We hadn't seen Auntie Agatha in a long time, though she had promised both our parents that she would be checking on us since the separation. She was a tad odd, dressing in flamboyant outfits and costumes, giving us gifts at random, but as kids, she was like the dream relative so we loved her just the same.

"Yeah…" Bridgette trailed off.

"You seem bummed to see her." I said.

"I'm not, but she also asked for a favor. She has a babysitting gig next week, but she has work to do and she's asking one of us..."

"To cover next week." I finished.

"Yeah, but whatever. We'll think about it later."

I left Bridgette moping around in the kitchen, and spent the rest of the day in my room and in front of my laptop, watching videos of Jack and Finn on youtube, and chewing on sour gummy worms with my husky Boo Radley asleep by my side. Hours and three gummy packs later, Bridgette knocked on my door and told me to get dressed. I wasn't sure what to wear, but knowing Auntie she liked us prim and proper when it came to dinners. One time, as kids, we both arrived for dinner in her house in matching jumpers, and she was so frustrated that by the next dinner we had with her, she brought us hand-sewn dresses, a blue one for me and a pink one for Bridgette. I pulled on a casual and collared red flowy dress that stopped above my knees and a beige cardigan to match my heels. I threw on some jewelry and did my make up as fast as I could before rushing out to the driveway where Bridgette was already waiting. Her curls looked immaculate as they pooled around her shoulders, just like her make up and her slim, baby blue halter dress. I ran a hand through my short hair, in search of any tangles, but with hair like mine, you rarely had them. Bridgette finally started the car, and drove off into the city.

"This is the place, right?" She said, glancing at the tiny orange post-it Auntie had left us on our first day here. "158 Polamo Street, Bayside Wesgrove."

We sized up the place together. It was a quaint townhouse, and looked just like all the other houses beside it in structure and color, except for the botanical garden growing all over it. Vines crawled up the arch that led up to the front door, Rose gardens and Carnations were planted on either side of the walkway, and some tomato plants had taken up a lot of space too. Even some potted sunflowers had decorated the top of the ledge-like fence that protected just a front of the house.

"Yep, this is definitely Aunties." I said, running up to the front door. Before I could even ring the bell, the door was thrown open and standing in front of Bridgette and I was a pink-haired, wide-eyed and caked-with-make-up woman who wore a long, sequined, green and aqua gown that reached the rug.

"Bridgette!" she shrieked, throwing her arms around me then did the same to my sister, "Skye!"

"Other way around Auntie." Bridgette giggled.

"Oh, I'm so, so sorry. It's been forever! I'm sorry I haven't been able to check on you two, but obviously you're both fine since you're still in one piece. Or two pieces, since you're twins… Well, you know what I mean!"

Auntie rushed both of us inside and sat us down in a long, mahogany dining table. My mouth watered just looking at the food she had set on each plate; Salisbury steaks with a cube of butter on top, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and garlic bread on the side. Before Auntie could even ask me anymore questions, I dug into the steak and mashed potatoes as my sister and Aunt Agatha chatted on around me.

"How's your dog by the way? It had an odd name didn't it? Brad Richard, or something?"

"Boo Radley," Bridgette corrected. "He's more of Skye's dog since he sleeps with her all the time."

"What about your grades? Good? Both of you?"

"Yes, actually, this year we've both been getting higher marks then ever. It's definitely a good thing if we're thinking about college applications."

"How's school? Make friends? Any parties coming up?"

"Skye and I both hang out with different crowds, but there really isn't much of a problem with that."

I rolled my eyes as I cleaned off a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

"Ooh! So boyfriends! Any of you have boyfriends?"

"I'm still seeing someone from home, Tyler!" Bridgette blushed then kicked me under the table. "You should ask Skye. Her boyfriend came over a while ago to give her breakfast. His name's L—"

"B-Bridgette!" I choked on my corn, hacking and coughing until I downed the whole glass of water. Bridgette had burst into laughter and was holding her stomach as she shook her head. My face had started to heat up and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to eat all my nervous thoughts away.

"Honey, there's no shame in having a boyfriend…" Auntie said, patting my arm.

"Auntie, Bridgette's out of her mind." I replied sweetly, dabbing my lips with a napkin. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"That's right." Bridgette said. "She has two."

"Two?!" I stared in horror. This is so not how I envisioned how dinner would go.

"Two!" Auntie exclaimed, slapping her hand to her cheek in shock. "Oh my, Skylar, you really are 'living the life'!"

"L-Living the…what?"

"BAHAHAHAHHAHAHA—" Bridgette exploded in another fit.

"Oh, I've done that before!" Auntie winked at me mischievously, "Just don't get caught, dearie. Things won't end well if the two men find out. Or are they… women?"

"They're men!" I cut in, shaking in my seat. "I-I mean, they're neither! I don't have boyfriends or girlfriends!"

"You're right, you're much too young. Don't worry, you can experiment all you want in college."

"Auntie." I said, gripping the dining table. "I don't have anyone. At all."

Bridgette took a sip of water, "They're both totally in love with you though. Especially—"

"—Don't say Lysander." I groaned.

"—Castiel, I mean have you seen the way he looks at you?"

I dropped my glass back on the table in confusion.

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, I see him all the time. Staring at you and shiz." Bridgette murmured.

"That's not possible." I commented. "Cas barely even goes to class."

"He does when he has classes with you."

I rolled my eyes.

"Not true." I said. "Stop it, Bridge. We're friends so there's nothing wrong with that."

"Alright, alright, just letting you in on what I know." Bridgette sighed, patting her contented stomach.

"Well!" Auntie clapped her hands, "This has been an eventful dinner! We should have these more often!"

"Agreed." Bridgette grinned. I kicked her shin under the table, earning a shriek and a grunt from my sister.

Apparently, the night wasn't over yet. Auntie had dug around her old VCR collections, and after scavenging through the mess, she found her VCR player and her only copy of Dirty Dancing. Before either Bridgette and I could insist we had to get home, she popped in the tape, heated up some popcorn, and brought us a blanket to keep us warm on her plush loveseat in front of the TV. Not that I didn't like Dirty Dancing, but I watched it a million times before, and so did Bridgette, pretty much memorizing Johnny Castle and Baby's dance moves in every single scene (obviously Bridgette was way more adept in the dancing part, so I made up for it by singing to all the songs), so the both of us weren't exactly thrilled to be watching it again with Auntie. But then, our luck changed because halfway into the movie, Aunt had fallen asleep and was snoring loudly between us.

"I am so out of here." Bridgette said, hopping to her feet and throwing the blanket to the side. She dusted her dress and fixed her curls before heading for the door.

"Hey! Where are you going?" I chased after her and out to the driveway.

"Amber's house is pretty near here. You sure you wanna come?"

I stepped back and leaned against the light post. The air was extra cool in the night and I contemplated taking Auntie's blanket and wrapping it around myself.

"No." I sighed. "I'll call Lys or Cas or something to hang out."

"I'll be careful with the car!" Bridgette called, pinching my cheek forcefully and jumping into the driver's seat before driving away. I stomped back into the house and grabbed my phone, opening my contacts. Everyone in school was here and a lot from back home, though I wasn't sure whom I wanted to spend the rest of the night with. It was ten o'clock and I was running out of time. I thought about calling Rosalya, though I doubted she could pick me up this late just for some girl-bonding time. I could call Lysander, but I didn't want to be spending too much time with him. Already my sister thought something was going on, and plus, I was pretty sure he mentioned earlier that he was helping out Leigh at the store tonight. So finally, with him out of the question, I called the person I never thought I would end up calling on a lonely night.

"Well, a good evening to you, Whitman." He picked up on the third ring.

"Um, hey Statham."

"What's up? You're in jail and you need me to bail you out, am I right?"

I rolled my eyes and snorted.

"Yeah right. Actually, I need you to come take me out. 158 Polamo Street, Bayside Wesgrove."

There was a pause and a jangle of keys before Castiel replied in a husky voice, "I'll be there in ten."

"You're late." I said as I heard boot heels clicking against the sidewalk. Castiel's lanky form emerged from the shadows of the unlit spots of the street with his hands in his pockets. He wore a plain charcoal gray undershirt that matched his eyes under his usual black bomber jacket and jeans.

"I'm not late." He smirked, running a hand through his scarlet red fringe.

"You said you'd be here in ten."

"I said twenty."

"You said ten."

"Maybe you have bad reception here and heard me wrong." He replied, chuckling at my expression: a mix of annoyance and entertainment.

I rolled my eyes, huffing. "Where's your car?"

"At home."

"Y-You walked here? How—what, you didn't have to—"

"Oh don't flatter yourself, Whitman." Castiel clucked his tongue, swinging an arm around my shoulders and leading me down the sidewalk. "I took something else with me today."

It didn't take long for me to realize, that he had brought me to the curb where he parked his jet black Harley motorcycle. I froze on the spot.

"Is that…a Harley?" I gasped, rushing over to it and bringing my fingers to touch the handlebar and the flawless black paint.

"Her name's Quinn. You know, Harley Quinn."

"Yeah, yeah, I know who she is." I said, still in awe that Castiel even owned one of these things. "Wait—you're not seriously driving me around in this, are you?"

"You said you wanted me to take you out. What better way to see the town than actually be out in the open?" Castiel said, handing me his black helmet. I pushed it back to him, trying to think of more excuses, though I knew there was no way out of this. It's either on the Harley or back to Dirty Dancing.

"I could die if I fall off." I expressed. Though it wasn't that I was scared of. It was the fact that I…

"You better hold on tight then, little girl."

Great.

Castiel ended up wearing the helmet. We argued a bit who would take it; he said I should since it was my first time and all while I said it should be him since he was the one driving and if there was wind in his eyes, we'd both die, so I won and he had to wear it. Then there was saddling up. Castiel slid on with ease, hooking his leg right over the seat, while I tried my best to climb on without showing anything (damn dinner making me wear a dress). When I was on and had my front pressed against Castiel's back, I locked my arms around his torso. He snickered at my awkwardness—though don't think I didn't miss the red in his cheeks—when he revved the engine and took off. At first, I had my eyes squeezed shut and my arms had an iron grip on Castiel, but as we wove through the city, passing buildings and little shops, parks and houses, I slowly opened them and let myself take the tour with my eyes. For the first time, I was able to see things outside of the little town I had been staying in since I barely went downtown. Some kids were out on their porch, a couple of guys in their twenties were getting stoned behind a pizza joint, an old man was out buying milk in a convenience store. For the first time since I was here, the place felt alive. Like it wasn't just the people I knew that kept everything running. Everyone's lives were here.

"Hold on," Castiel said over the wind that we whizzed right past. I peered over his shoulder and saw that he was trying to outrun the yellow light. I tightened my grip and listened to the groan of the engine heighten and fill my ears as Castiel sped up and crossed the boulevard with ease, but still running.

"Too low—" Castiel huffed over the loud noise.

"What?" I yelled.

"Your grip!" Castiel said, though he didn't squirm. "Bring it back up!"

I widened my eyes and almost let go completely when I realized he was talking about how my arms were wrapped around his solid lower stomach.

"Sorry!" I blushed, bringing my arms back around his ribs.

"Where are we going!" I yelled.

"I promised to take you out—" Castiel called over the whipping breeze, "So I think—a tour is appropriate—"

"Last time you gave me a tour, you ended up hating my guts!"

"Then let's see how round two goes, yeah?" Castiel laughed and I did too, leaning my cheek against his back. He had that boy smell too, just like Lysander, with a hint of cigarettes and peppermint.

We found ourselves back into the quaint side of town, surrounded by the places I was used to, where everything seemed to be at an eye view away. Castiel quickly passed us by the buildings that I already knew, but added little stories about them, like how a snooty blond family owned the bank (Bristols), how the kids made rumors that the Dollar Shop man, Louis, was immortal since he's been working there for decades and still looks the same, how all the girls, in and out of town, fawned over Leigh Ainsworth, Lys's brother, even when he was dating Rosalya and said he was a ten in the sack—I laughed at Castiel even using that term—but a lot of them secretly just wanted to get a shot at Lysander, or how the Burger Kingdom guy sells pot on Sunday nights when his shack is closed. The night went by faster that I had hoped for, and suddenly I was glad to have called Castiel to keep me company instead of anyone else. Finally, Castiel parked his motorcycle on the side of a small diner, and told me to watch it. For the first time since we left my Aunt's house hours ago, I saw his face again as he removed his helmet, a little damp from it, with his hair messed around and sticking out in funny ends. I stood by Harley Quinn as Castiel waltzed into the drive-through, right up the window of the employee and ordered two plain vanilla ice creams and paying on the spot.

"One for you." He said, handing me one. I thanked him with a nod and licked the ice cream generously with my tongue. We finished our ice cream in silence, leaning against the back of the dingy, retro-looking diner.

"I've never been out this late." I said, checking the time on my phone. 1:37 AM.

"You're lying." Castiel snickered, already biting into his cone.

"I mean here, in Wesgrove. No one's been out with me this late." I clarified. Castiel nodded.

"Well, I figured you've been here long enough. A little adventure here and there never hurt anybody."

I smiled to myself. "You'd enjoy California. Everything you do feels like an adventure."

"You must wish you were back there, huh." Castiel said.

"Nope. Sure, I miss a lot of people, but I had a reason for moving and things are just a lot easier here."

"People hate you back then?" He joked, elbowing my arm.

"Some did," I said, shuddering at the memories I had of people leaving me foul notes in my locker or written on the corner of my textbooks. "A lot of rumors went around about…" I gulped, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach just thinking about it, "Yeah, I don't want to talk about it. I'm glad to be here."

"Well, this place isn't really the place to be." Castiel said, "but it's good enough."

"Yeah," I agreed, "good enough."

Castiel licked his fingers from any remains of ice cream.

"You ready to go home?" he asked, a mischievous look in his silver gaze.

"Not yet." I frowned.

"You want more?" Castiel tsk'd, "It's a small town, I only have one more place in mind…"

"Yay!" I clapped my hands, laughing. "Come on, one more and I know I'll be able to sleep."

"You promise?" Castiel said, sliding back on his helmet.

"Mhmm."

"Fine," he replied, though we both already knew that he was going to take me anyway. "Don't want to waste your pretty little dress."

The ride there didn't take long; I didn't have the same anxiety as I did earlier when Castiel started the engine, and my arms didn't lock around him to fiercely as they used to. I felt almost relaxed as we drove and took some turns, even though I knew my feet were merely around five inches away from the concrete below. Finally, we reached our last stop, the parking lot of the jewelry store.

"We here to see the immortal Mr. Louis?" I joked as I slid off the seat, making sure Castiel didn't look when I landed. I straightened out my skirt and finally poked him on the back so he could get off too.

"Funny, funny." Castiel said, smirking at me, "but don't tell me you don't remember."

"Remember what…Oh." I finished, remembering the familiar surroundings of my encounter with Castiel on my first day in Sweet Amoris, how we snuck out to this very parking lot, how we exchanged snarky remarks in his car, and how it was awkward just being along with him back then. Back then, it was morning and I barely knew this guy. Back then, we rode a car here. Now, it wasn't completely easy like Lysander and I, but it was definitely so much better than before. Now, it wasn't awkward, but there was some different kind of air between that I couldn't describe even if I tried. And now, I spent the whole night pretty much holding on to him.

"Yeah. Oh." Castiel said, then unexpectedly reached for my hand. I didn't even think he knew he did it, since he seemed to relaxed. I gasped softly and was insanely thankful that he was walking ahead of me, really, really not wanting him to notice how his almost electric touch had me fidgety and pink in the cheeks. Questions bounced around my skull as I followed him. Did he feel that? How hot his hands were? Did he know I was suddenly nervous? And why? Why was I suddenly jumpy? Why now? Why with Castiel?

His fingertips were calloused from his guitar, and I suddenly wanted to watch him play, while the rest of his palm was smooth and warm, and slightly sticky from the ice cream. We reached the wire fence that separated the parking lot from the trees and what waited for us behind. Back then, he climbed ahead of me and waited impatiently as I precariously tried my best not to get cuts on my clothes (and failed). Now, Castiel locked his fingers and crouched down, letting me step into his hands and boost me up to the top of the fence, before following behind me, grabbing my hand again and sending shocks to every point in my body with his piercing eyes. We felt our way around the trees, and I gripped his arm extra tight in fear that I would get lost. Finally, we emerged to the hill that he had brought me. The hill that wasn't so high, but wasn't so low, wasn't so rough but wasn't so smooth, that didn't have a view of the whole town, but gave you a glimpse of it anyway. When we reached the top, we plopped down and stayed quiet, as our panting filled out the supposed silence.

"We fought over this, didn't we?" I said, waving my arm.

"What haven't we fought over?" Castiel laughed, lying on his back. I followed and settled in beside him, ignoring that my neck rested on his arm.

"We didn't fight tonight."

"We did, a little bit. Over Quinn and the helmet, and when I called the Bristols a snooty family."

"Hmm. And I thought we could go through the evening without a quarrel."

"Face it, little girl. We can't help butting heads once in a while."

"Or everyday." I added, laughing. "Maybe we just don't think the same."

"I figured." Castiel said, "You think like Lys."

"Then why aren't you and Lysander screaming your heads off all the time?" I said, adjusting my eyes to the dark and trying to count the stars. I couldn't, of course, but my nerves were still on end and I needed a distraction.

"Because Lys and I have music and we let all our differences out in making music. Unlike you and, well, me, all we have are energy and free time."

"True." I agreed.

"Plus," Castiel added, "Lys isn't the type to exert effort on getting worked up over fights. He thinks it's useless. I think it's communication."

"I think it's communication unless nothing changes. Then it becomes useless."

"You're over thinking it, Whitman." Castiel said.

"I always over think. It leads to—"

"Paranoia." We both said. Castiel snickered and shook his head.

"Hey look, it's the Big Dipper!" He shot his free arm upwards to connect the stars.

"No it's not! That's Cepheus. Lys and I check the stars out sometimes."

"Leave it to you two to know about constellations and out-of-this-world stuff."

"You don't know about constellations, do you?"

"Nope. I just always hear people saying they see the big dipper."

I burst out into a fit of laughter. Castiel did too and we laughed for five straight minutes, until I completely forget why we were laughing in the first place.

"I thought I hated you." I said finally, when we calmed down.

"Do you?" Castiel asked quietly. I felt a shift in his position and I knew he was looking right at me. His burning eyes were pretty hard to ignore. I looked at him and tried not to react to his charcoal gaze locking with my hazel one.

"Sometimes." I said.

"I hate you too. Sometimes."

Slowly, a half-smile found its way to Castiel's lips, and a hazy look occupied his eyes, and I could just feel the heat radiate off his entire body right then, like he got a fever in a matter of seconds. I wanted more than anything to know what he was thinking. Maybe it would've helped fix my muddled thoughts. We broke our eye contact quickly and before I knew it, Castiel was sitting up, looking tired and frazzled. The smile on his lips was gone and was replaced by him biting on his bottom lip.

"I have to take you home." He said, and just like that, we were on our feet, walking back, through the trees, over the fence, back on the seat of Harley Quinn, and on the way back home. When we stopped in front of the driveway, I swung my legs off the seat for probably the twentieth time that night. Castiel didn't say a word the whole ride, and didn't feel like saying much either, guiding me to my porch like I didn't walk up to it every single day.

"Thanks Statham." I tried to lighten the mood by punching his arm.

"You're welcome Whitman." Castiel snickered, elbowing me back. "I have to say, I didn't expect to enjoy this as much as I did."

"Me either." I admitted.

"Why didn't you call Lys to hang out with you instead?" Castiel asked.

"Oh, well I—" was about to but Lysander said he was working with Leigh at the shop, but—"kinda wanted to hang out with you." Oh my GOD, Skye I can't believe you just said that.

Castiel looked away and scratched the back of his neck. I chewed on my lip before I said anything more awkward or embarrassing.

"You're lying, Whitman."

"I'm not." I said, smiling between biting my lip.

"Don't do that." He said, reaching over and leaning in close, and my heart pounded in my chest, wondering if he was going to try and kiss me, and my head was just as useless, because I didn't know what to do.

"D-Do what?"

"Bite your lip." He said softly, his finger tugging slightly on my chin and releasing my bottom lip from my teeth. "You might hurt yourself."

Then Castiel, spun on his heel, swung his leg over Quinn and revved his bike up once more before speeding off.

I went to sleep that night thinking about the whole day. How I started it with Lysander in the morning, and ended it with Castiel in the night. How I realized I was just in sync with Lys while I was a different kind of wave compared to Cas. How being around Lysander made me feel like I was floating, my feel barely grazing the ground because I didn't feel like I had a problem in the world, and how being around Castiel made me feel wrecked and torn and a nervous mess all over. How I admitted to one that I loved him, in an awkward but definitely funny way, and how I said I hated the other in the least awkward way possible. Sometimes.


	9. Eight: Vocal Chords and Guitar Strings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter features three songs so I suggest you listen to them (unless you're already familiar) if you want to really understand what's going on here!
> 
> 1\. City of Angels - Goo Goo Dolls
> 
> 2\. Happy Together - The Turtles
> 
> 3\. Creep - Radiohead

"I'm going to die!" I yelled over the phone tucked between my cheek and my shoulder as I rocked back and forth the crying baby boy in my arms.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Bridgette apologized over and over, "I promised Nate and, well, ugh, I totally owe you! I swear, the leaves! The leaves, I'll get to that!"

"You better." I groaned, hanging up on her.

The week went faster than I thought, and apparently, so did the tree in front of our house. By the time Bridgette and I had the heart to start cleaning up the yard, we were found knee-deep in fallen leaves. School was a drag, and everyone just seemed to be counting the days away from Halloween, which was in another week. All anyone ever talked about were costumes and make up, or what their plans were for the occasion. It was all I heard, especially since my only girl friend was Rosalya.

The weekend came and I was not thrilled. Okay, fine, so I was distracted too that Halloween was in a week, so there was just a few more days to stick out. This was not going to be a good weekend, and I knew it. I had already set my expectations pretty low so I wouldn't be even more disappointed.

There was Auntie's babysitting thing. And here I was, filling in for her. Lysander, Castiel and I made plans to watch a movie or something (really it was to help Leigh out at the store and then think of a way to sneak Lysander out and then watch a movie), and I didn't want to blow them off for a responsibility that wasn't even mine. But plans change. And Bridgette had begged me all week to do it. I didn't have anything to do anyway that weekend that was really that important so I took one for the team.

"Shhh," I cooed, rocking the baby like how mothers always did in those movies. Yeah, apparently it wasn't all that effective. Tommy cried and cried and was turning red in the face. I was so not cut out for this. "Please, please, please stop crying!"

I switched on some classical music. That was good for babies, right? The toaster ping-ed and out popped my s'mores flavored poptarts.

"Hey kiddo, want pop tarts?" I asked picking up one. "Ah fuck!" Immediately the snack dropped from my singed hand and I was biting my lip, trying not to scream as the baby in my hands did. My whole body was sweltering since I had turned the thermostat up and now, so was my burned hand. I looked at the clock. It was six in the evening and Tommy hadn't stopped crying in over two hours.

Auntie had left me a list of do's and don'ts and this whole thing was starting to look more like a hassle than just a little favor. First, Tommy's milk had to be warmed at exactly 35 degrees C, and left to cool in the fridge for around ten minutes or else he would either burn his little tongue or catch a cold drinking anything even close to cold. Also, all windows had to be shut and the thermostat turned up so he wouldn't get a fever or again, a cold. Then, I had to carry him around with a blanket so he wouldn't get…cold. Everything about the list seemed to have a lot to do with his temperature. When it came to changing diapers, I was on my own with no instructions whatsoever. That was another story.

All day, I ran around the house, trying to keep the baby from crying, keep him from getting hungry, keeping him clean, keeping him happy, keeping him entertained. I was pretty sure I didn't even have a chance to have a bite for lunch. The baby screamed and kicked in my arms and I felt his little foot jab at my stomach. I groaned and fell to my knees, trying to shush his cries. The high-pitched sound stabbed at my eardrums and I felt like crying myself. And then I did. I cried like a baby, and I wasn't sure anymore who was making the nose, him or me. My black hair felt like a wet mop on my face, my clothes stuck to me like glue and was covered in baby vomit, my cheeks were red from exhaustion, and all I really wanted to do was actually be a baby. My eyes blurred and I didn't know, or care, how long I sobbed but I did.

Then, I heard a knock on the door and my phone ring. I looked up at my reflection against the glass of the oven. I looked like utter shit. So instead of making for the door, I tucked Tommy into a lying position, his red face full of despair, and answered my phone.

"H-Hello?" I croaked, sniffling as I held it to my ear.

"We're outside your house." Lysander's voice said through the receiver. "Open up?"

My lip quivered again and I had started to sob.

"Whoa, Skylar, are you alright? Are you crying? That's it, we're—"

"We're busting inside!" I heard Castiel in the background. "Unless you want to open the door! That's cool too—

"Skye, talk to me?" Lysander said soothingly, and I finally swallowed and tried to get a hold of myself. What the hell was up with me? I was sixteen here for crying out loud. I shouldn't just be crying under a little (or a lot) of stress. Finally, I gathered myself and patted Tommy's back, then threw open my front door where sure enough, Lysander and Castiel were standing. They both turned around and locked their eyes on me, one emerald and gold, and the other a smoldering gray. Tommy had started to cry again.

"Well," Castiel said, "you look like shit."

The boys followed me inside, and had a look at the mess I made. Throw pillows were all over the ground, cushions were out of place, a blanket was spread on the couch for a makeshift crib, baby food and bottles of milk scattered the floor, and there were way too many stains on my clothes to count.

"Why didn't you call us if you needed help, Skye?" Lysander asked me. I just looked at him with a blank stare. Then he looked at me like he was scared. It made me want to cry. Again. "You know what, let's talk later. Cas?"

"Hmm?" Castiel was having a look at the crumbled pop tart on the floor and kicking it with his foot."

"Help get Skye cleaned up?" Lysander said to him, then he turned back to me, "Okay, give me the little tyke for now."

"He—He—Lys," I stammered.

"I can handle it." Lysander threw me a wink before taking Tommy from my arms and cradling him in his. I tried reaching for the baby again when he started to cry, but Lysander just shook his head and paced the room. Suddenly, firm hands held me by my shoulders, making me jump.

"Come on, little girl," Castiel soothed. His voice was surprisingly calming. "We need to get you in a shower."

I let Castiel lead me upstairs, but eventually I was too tired to hurry and rush, and he realized I was going to be slow, so he scooped me up in his arms and trudged towards the bathroom. I didn't even fight back. My bones felt like they were stretched thin, like my will to do anything. Castiel set me down on my feet, and I shivered at the feel of the cold tiles of the bathroom on the soles of my feet. Castiel looked a bit lost and shaky, and I wasn't sure what he was thinking. I touched the dried vomit on my plain red t-shirt, cardigan and my shorts.

"You smell terrible." Castiel commented, his hands touching the hem of my sweater before he pulled it off my shoulders. And I let him. I shivered as his fingers came in contact with the exposed patch of skin, and instinctively wrapped my arms around myself even when I still had on my t-shirt.

"You cold or something?" Castiel asked calmly, and I wondered if he did these things all the time.

"N-No…" I stuttered.

"Well, can't really help you here." Castiel concluded, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Unless of course, you forget how to take your clothes off, I better be the first you call—"

"Outside Statham. Now." I said, rolling my eyes, but a smile was already spreading my lips. "And lock it."

"Alright, alright, just an offer." Castiel said, his hands up in mock surrender. He shut the door behind him, clicking the lock shut and leaving me alone.

Gingerly, I stripped from my caked-with-gunk outfit, and stepped into the shower. With the water all over me, I actually wanted to just break into tears how happy I was just to be fucking taking a damn shower. That's how crazy I felt. When my skin felt like it had been scrubbed to the bone, and my hair was in shampoo so much that I felt like I wouldn't need a shower for weeks, I finally stepped out. My body looked awkward, curves here, bones sticking out there. I just wanted to be covered up. Then, I realized I didn't have a towel.

"Castiel?" I called. No response. "Statham!"

Nothing.

I poked my head out of the bathroom door that led to Bridgette's room, since it joined both of our bedrooms. Castiel was lying on Bridgette's queen sized bed, fast asleep. I rolled my eyes, about to call out his name when I almost facepalmed myself.

Seriously Skye, you're getting dumber by the second.

Instead of waking Castiel up, I shut the bathroom door and tiptoed over to behind Bridgette's dresser where we kept all the towels, grabbed one then wrapped it around myself as quickly as I could. I made to run back to the bathroom but when I grabbed for the knob, it didn't budge.

"Oh shit." I muttered under my breath. My body was freezing and well, now dripping all over Bridgette's floor. I sucked a breath in and opened the bedroom door, and readied to cross as silently as I could over to my room. I was doing just fine when I stopped my tracks and realized it; the crying had stopped. Instead of a screaming baby, I heard the soothing voice of what sounded like freaking heaven to my ears. I peered down to look what was going on. Lysander was swaying back and forth, his eyes shut as he rocked the baby in his arms, his angelic voice sounding through the whole house. He sounded…amazing, just like everything else he did. The sound of his voice made my heart feel like it was beating a mile a minute as I watched him. But then the moment was broken all too soon, when his eyes fluttered open and I was caught. Staring right at Lysander. In a towel. This was so not my day.

"Skye?" Lysander gulped, staring right back at me. My eyes widened and a blush took over my cheeks, my face, my everything; I was pretty sure I just turned into a tomato.

"I was just…"

"D-Do you have any clothes under that?" Lysander asked. His eyes were wide too and it was undeniable. We were both just looking at each other. And we were both red in the face. And I was still in a towel. "I-I mean, do you have clothes? Not that, God, no, of course you have clothes. I wasn't thinking that you didn't, I just—"

"I'm getting dressed!" I cut in, rushing into my room. Once I was safe inside, I let out the breath I had been holding in and dressed quickly. With a new white t-shirt, cotton shorts, and flip-flops, I felt better than I had in hours. Downstairs, Lysander had the baby fast asleep on the couch while he sat beside it.

"Um, hi Lys." I said, smiling as I crossed to the kitchen. This was so awkward. Lysander looked up at me and stood up, smiling back.

"You look a lot better." He commented. "Care to tell me what happened?"

"My Aunt thought I could babysit a baby. I can't." I sighed simply, pulling out bread, ham and a block of cheese from the fridge. "Thank God you guys came."

"Sure thing." Lysander grinned, maneuvering himself around me as I carried the ingredients over to the counter. He jumped into the bar stool across from me. "Why didn't you call us in the first place? You looked like you had lost your wits there."

"I did." I shrugged, slicing the ham. "I don't know. I didn't want to bother you guys."

"Skye," Lysander placed his soft hand on top of mine, and stopping me from cutting any more ham slices. "Seriously, if you need help, I'm here."

"It's just babysitting!" I insisted, cutting the cheese this time.

"Shh," Lysander shushed, glancing over at Tommy on the couch, "Really? Do you really think it's just babysitting?"

"No." I sighed. "Um, thank you Lys. I don't know where I would be without you. Probably sobbing in a corner over there. Er, why are you here anyway?"

"Do we really have to go over this again? We wanted to see you. Hang out."

"Oh. Well. That's cool." I chewed on my lip.

Lysander smiled to himself, looking at me under his silvery bangs. He looked really good today, and much more dressed than I was. Again, I felt my heart jump to my throat when he looked at me with his Technicolor eyes.

"Sandwich?" I pushed a plate towards him.

Lysander eyed the ham and cheese sandwich I had put together, along with the two others I made for Castiel and I. I grabbed mine and stuffed it into my mouth before he expected me to say anymore. Lysander thanked me with a nod and took the plate, bringing it to the couch where Tommy slept. We settled down on the loveseat beside Tommy, one arm of Lysander around my shoulder while he ate the sandwich quickly.

"Thanks." He said to me.

"For the sandwich?"

"Mhmm."

"It's nothing." I shrugged, leaning onto him. "You saved my life."

"I'd save your life everyday if you make me sandwiches like that every time." He joked, resting his cheek on the top of my head.

"You were singing a while ago." I said softly. "It was…" No words. I honestly didn't have anything. I was drawing to a blank. I just started laughing. "I've just never heard you sing."

"I hum all the time." Lysander said, but I heard the smile in his voice.

"Not good enough." I said, "Sing me something."

"Now?"

"No, Lys. In half an hour."

Lysander chuckled, and even when he laughed you could tell his voice was beautiful. He cleared his throat and shifted, pulling me closer. I felt my whole body relax just having Lysander close. I remembered what I saw, how he had taken care of Tommy and found a way to get him to calm down with his voice. The night air was letting itself in, but I didn't have the energy to close up the windows anymore. It made everything feel just right.

"And I'd give up forever to touch you, cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't want to go home right now…"

I recognized the song, City of Angels by the Goo Goo Dolls. I closed my eyes and let Lysander's voice take me somewhere else. Somewhere where it was just him. And it was just me. And I didn't know why, but this was the most comforting thought I've had all day.

"And all I could taste is this moment, and all I could breathe is your life"

"And sooner or later it's over…I just don't want to lose you tonight."

Before I knew it, my eyes were giving in along with my body and my mind, and I was falling asleep. Even as I did though, Lysander's voice stayed with me until everything was black and I was gone.

"And I don't want the world to see me, cause I don't think that they'd understand.

When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am…"

When I woke up, everything was still pitch black. I reached over for my phone and clicked it on. It was 2:37 in the morning. I buried my face deep into my pillows and tried to fall back to sleep, but I was never good at that. I tried to reach for my blanket, until I realized I had used it for the baby's bed out in the couch.

Fuck. The baby.

I jumped right up, when something fell off my shoulders and onto the floor. I felt around and reached for it, then switched on my lamp to see what it was.

A black bomber jacket that smelled like cigarettes and peppermint.

I smiled to myself then climbed out of bed, hoping that Tommy was either still asleep or safe with Auntie Agatha. When I got downstairs though, the baby was still there, sound asleep on the couch, while Lysander was passed out too with his coat over himself. I grabbed a blanket quickly and made my way towards him, detaching his coat from his body and draping the blanket on top of him. He muttered something to himself then went still.

I checked around the house for any lights left on, flicking everything off from the ones in the living room, the kitchen, the bathrooms, until I came to the study. As I reached for the lamp, I noticed the piano lid was left open from earlier when I tried calming down the baby with instruments. It didn't work, obviously, but I slid onto the seat anyway and pressed on a Re then a Do. With my left hand, I started a steady beat from E minor chord, while I played key by key with my right. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the rest of the song, humming under my breath. It was an old one, 'Happy Together' by The Turtles. It was one of my mom's favorite songs and she always seemed to start to sing along whenever I played it. Playing the piano was one of the things Bridgette and I had in common. Though we had different styles in music, we both were pretty good. I could almost hear my mom's sweet voice in my head and picture my dad twirling her around as they danced and I played the right hand, Bridgette on the left.

'Imagine me and you, I do

I think about you day and night, it's only right'

Then my dad would step towards her and slide my mom side by side, taking over the song.

'To think about the girl you love and hold her tight

So happy together…'

"Well someone's up."

"OH MY GOD!" I shrieked, clutching my chest then attempting to jump out of the seat, hit my lap on the piano and fell down on my knees. When I looked up, Castiel had twirled around the leather office chair he was sitting in and facing my crumpled form.

"Whoa, whoa, you might wake the baby." Castiel said, stroking the puppy stuffed toy in his lap. "You alright there, Whitman?"

"F-Fine…" I stammered, dusting off my shorts, making eye contact with him. His red hair had fallen over his cool gray eyes, which looked tired but still just as alive as they always did. He was just in his red Winged Skull t-shirt and I had to say, his arms actually looked really…

"Impressive. I didn't know you could play the piano." Castiel hummed, looking at me from head to toe. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I didn't know you were here." I stated, sitting down on the piano seat again but facing him this time.

"You think I'd leave you all alone where Lys can just have you? Ha, you wish." He said plainly. I noticed though that there was less conviction in his words, and when our eyes locked, his eyes looked sadder than ever.

"What's wrong?" I asked him. Where was the teasing, the boyish smirk, the burning eye contact?

"Wrong?" Castiel shifted uncomfortably, averting his gaze. I knew I had him. "Why would you think there was something wrong?"

"I don't know," I said shyly, "You seem a bit unfocused."

"What's there's to focus on?" Castiel replied coolly. Okay there was definitely something off. His guard was down but so was his charm. I felt a cold breeze rush up my spine but I found myself not shivering.

"O-Oh, um, I think this is yours." I said, taking off Castiel's bomber jacket and holding it out to him. There was the shiver.

"Hmm?" Castiel hummed again, still sounding distant, "Oh, put it on. You look better in it anyway."

"No take it—" I insisted. Why wasn't he teasing me? Why wasn't he picking a fight? Why was he just…being normal? Seriously. I was starting to get nervous.

"We both know you get cold easily." Castiel waved me off. Instead of fighting him, I decided to just put his jacket on again. It was true. I was already cold the longer I was without it. I wasn't sure what to say next since he was being weird and I was scared I'd be annoying.

"Do you mind?" Castiel asked me, snapping me out of it.

"Hmm?"

"Your guitar over there," he motioned to my Fender on its stand by his right. "Do you mind?"

I shook my head and watched as Castiel tossed the stuffed puppy over his shoulder then reached for my guitar, strumming the fine strings. He strummed an easy rhythm, jumping from fret to fret, and I listened as he just played along. But when I heard the flat string and the stumble of his fingers, Castiel groaned inwardly. "Fuck…" he muttered to himself.

"Are you okay?" I pressed again, standing up.

"Why do you keep asking…" Castiel moaned, rolling his silver eyes, but instead of the fight in his voice, he just sounded plain tired. I leaned my back against the desk and put a hand on the armrest of the chair.

"I'm curious." I said honestly, "You're being different. You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"If you haven't noticed, you and I don't really have that open, heart to heart, full of love friendship you and Lys have." Castiel muttered.

"We can if you tell me." I said, batting my eyelashes.

"I'm just trying to figure this melody out." Castiel said, plucking at the strings again. I concluded that asking wasn't the way to get close to Castiel and I would have to try harder if I really wanted it. He played the same song this time, a sad sounding tune, but instead of strumming, he plucked, and everything seemed a lot simpler and more intimate.

"It's just…" Castiel started, then out of nowhere, reached for my hand. I gasped and the nerves in my system were suddenly ignited. W-What the—"Help me out here." He tugged me down until I was dropping awkwardly into his lap. When I was close to his body, I sniffed a trace of alcohol, and I wondered if he had helped himself to the liquor cabinet.

"Castiel, what are you, oof—" I was cut off by the guitar's sleek wooden body jabbing into my ribs, and the only way to quell the pain was to shift and lean back onto Castiel's body as he held the guitar firmly around me. After a few seconds, I gave in and I leaned towards him awkwardly. My heart was jumping around in my rib cage and everything inside me felt like it was on end. What was I doing? What the hell was going on? More importantly, what was this game we were playing? This…teasing thing going on, whatever you could call it.

"Listen to this, I just learned it." Castiel whispered close to my ear, and then he was plucking a familiar song. My day was extremely musical, come to think of it. Castiel was plucking away at the intro and the eeriness of the melody sent a shudder through my body. The slow song filled my ears, and I was wide-awake this time. No distractions. I had to listen. I couldn't not.

Castiel cleared his throat and in a gravely voice, he sang Creep by Radiohead.

"When you were here before, couldn't look you in the eye.

You're just like an angel; your skin makes me cry.

You float like a feather in a beautiful world.

I wish I was special.

You're so fucking special.

But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo.

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here…"

I was shaking at the sound of his beautiful, rough voice. Unlike Lysander's angelic, heavenly one, Castiel's was smooth and raw.

"I don't care if it hurts…I want to have control.

I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul.

I want you to notice when I'm not around.

You're so fucking special.

I wish I was special.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here…"

I closed my eyes until I couldn't see anything but the warm glow of the desk lamp against my eyelids. I couldn't sleep at all though. Not like this. Not when this was happening and I wasn't able to run or escape, and this late at night, when my mind was working in odd ways, I wasn't sure if I wanted to leave at all.

"She's running out the door.

She's running out.

She runs, runs, runs, runs.

Runs. Runs."

And all I could smell was Castiel, his intoxicating mix of mint and nicotine. And I realized that was what he was. An mix of addiction and danger.

"Whatever makes you happy.

Whatever you want.

You're so fucking special…

I wish I was special."

His heart was beating as fast as mine was, but the way his whole figure seemed so relaxed gave you the impression that he was too. We were so close, as close as I ever was to him, even when I was holding him just last week on that motorcycle. This time was different, and I still was so confused with myself why I wasn't pulling away, why I had stayed through out the whole song. This time, there wasn't the wind to fill the silence or the noise of the city. This time, it was just me, Castiel Statham, and the sound of his voice as he drew out the lyrics from his throat.

"But I'm a creep.

I'm a weirdo.

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here."

When I heard him exhale, I fluttered my eyes open again, and I was met with Castiel's hot, searing gaze. I swallowed back any thoughts clouding my head. The night brought out the deepest, darkest thoughts in my mind that I never would've touched on if I wasn't up this late. Like how Castiel's body was so warm, and how his face was smooth and full of angles and chiseled slopes, and extremely beautiful. My eyes glanced towards his lips as he did the same to mine, and I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss this guy, who was an asshole to me from the start, and who was still as asshole when he shouldn't be. I didn't want anything more than that moment. I didn't want love, I didn't want perfection, I didn't want some kind of relationship. All I could think of was his lips crashing on my lips, and how soft they would be and how amazing they would feel. But when Castiel leaned in closer and my eyes started to close slightly, my heart froze in my chest and I was panicking, bursting inside and scrambling off his chest suddenly.

What the FUCK almost happened?

"U-U-Um…" I stuttered, "U-Uh…"

Castiel's cheeks were painted a pink shade and his eyes were focused somewhere else.

"Hope you liked that." He mumbled.

"W-What?"

"The song." He clarified, meeting my eyes. I blinked.

"Oh. Yeah. I did."

"Goodnight?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah goodnight." I repeated, stomping off towards my room with my heartbeat racking my whole chest. "W-Wait, Castiel?" I spun around.

"Yes?" Castiel cocked his head towards me.

"We weren't actually about to…uh…"

"Fall asleep?" Castiel finished, "Of course we weren't. How would we face Lys in the morning, right?" He chuckled though I noticed the crack in his voice.

"Right, uh. Fall asleep." I flashed a grin and ran back into my room, burying my face in my pillow and begging myself to actually really sleep.

This was usually the part where I tried summing up what I felt. But at this point, I didn't understand myself one bit.


End file.
